Through the barrier
by Blonde-Titch
Summary: James Potter and his friends sailed through their school years in a bubble. And now, suddenly, they are cartwheeling into the adult world, with nothing to cushion the blow. Full of fear, love and friendship, this is the story of the first war. REPOSTED.
1. Strawberry, Chocolate and Stuff

**Disclaimer: **The only thing I own here is the plot. The characters, places, etc, all belong to JK Rowling and Warner Brothers.

Through the Barrier

Chapter One: Strawberry, Chocolate and… stuff

**July 1978**

There was nothing like Diagon alley in the summer. Full of witches and wizards weaving in and out of each other, clutching bags bulging with purchased items and muttering about the huge croud and stuffy atmosphere. The small shops were leaning up against each other at crazy angles as if exhausted - and no' one could blame them. The sun was beating down with an almost unbearable heat, smothering the street with a blanket of stuffy warmth. As a result old men mopped at their foreheads with pristine white handkerchiefs and young woman bared their midriffs and knees to the ogling groups of adolescent boys leaning against the wall.

One shop in particular shop was doing a roaring trade this sweltering day in July. 'Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour'; a new addition to the street, was heaving with life. The young man who owned it had actually had to hire half a dozen more staff just to cope with the sudden surge of business which had appeared with the heat wave. The tables outside were stuffed with groups of friends and families, young and old, all enjoying the sweet, cold relief that the ice cream brought.

A certain table in the middle of the ice cream parlour was louder than the others. On the polished surface sat four ice creams, two of which were chocolate, one strawberry and one a mixture of at least five other flavours. As they sat there, slowly melting in the afternoon heat, the roar of laughter around them swelled and then dropped as the occupants of the table collapsed in their seats. Peter Pettigrew hiccupped slightly and reached for one of the glass cups of chocolate. Next to him Sirius Black stretched, extending his toned arms skyward to the red and white stripes of the umbrella. A group of girls on a nearby table eyed him appreciatively and he winked unashamedly back.

"So," James Potter, the owner of the strawberry ice cream, reached down and began to rustle around in one of the bags under the table. After a moment he produced a tall pointed hat the colour of strawberries, grinned and flung it on top of his ruffled head of jet-black hair. "What do you think?"

Remus Lupin looked gently at him for a second with a smirk on his face, "Prongs, don't take this the wrong way, but you look like a complete plank."

"Plank?"

"Plank."

James' chest swelled with indignation, "I do not! I _actually_ think it looks rather cool."

The other three burst into laughter, much to James' annoyance, and Sirius reached over to snatch the hat from his best friends head. "James. If I ever see you wear this again, I will ram it somewhere painful, right?" He threw the hat back across the table at James' chest and settled back in the wicker chair, chuckling merrily as the hat was shoved back into the bag. James sniffed proudly and took a big spoonful of pink mush, only to pull a disgusted face a second later.

"Ugh! It's all warm!"

Sirius raised his eyebrows and Remus wrinkled his nose. Peter however, nodded his agreement. "Yeah, I know. Shall we get another round?"

Sirius shrugged and tipped his chair onto its back legs. It was a relief to be able to do this without some uptight teacher telling him he'd smash his skull open. Sirius had once innocently asked Flitwick, with genuine curiosity, how many smashed skulls _he'd_ seen, and had lost Gryffindor twenty points as a result. Now he leant back with expert balance and flagged down a pretty young woman with a tray and an apron so white it practically glowed.

"Can I help you?"

"Hey! Yes, could we get another portion on strawberry, two more of chocolate and another of… erm… stuff." He picked up the thick glass goblets and passed them to be added to the hundred others balanced precariously on the silver tray.

"I don't think I should…" came a voice from behind him, which was promptly quashed.

"Shut up Remus, we'll pay for you. Thanks." Sirius nodded at the girl, who scuttled back inside, the goblets wobbling dangerously. The four young men turned back to continue their analysis of James' latest purchase.

Watching the scene, you would never have guessed that the world in which these men, woman and children lived in was balancing on the cusp of a full blown war. The young men themselves hadn't been aware until they'd left Hogwarts school, and had realised just how shielded they had been there. The fact that a group of people were intent on 'purifying' the Wizarding race, and meant to do this through means of murder and torture, was something they simply were not aware of, caught up as they were in a world of pranks, exams and rule-breaking. Not until they'd left the school and had been thrown into a place where there were no teachers or adults to protect them, had they realised the real seriousness of the situation. They were the adults now, they were responsible, and that scared them all more than they would ever admit.

"Okay guys!" bellowed Sirius, holding up his new ice cream and rapping the side smartly with a long, silver spoon. The tiny chime sent the group, plus a few tables around them, into an uneasy silence. The crackle of distant conversation always present, Sirius stood and held his ice cream up high. A multicoloured droplet glided down the side and fell onto the table, when Remus wiped it up with a napkin.

"As you all know, I got myself a lovely little house..."

"Flat." reminded James.

"A lovely little flat," reprimanded Sirius without missing a beat, "And I am pleased to say that I have finally managed to remove that boggart from the big bedroom _and _all the doxies from the kitchen."

"There were _doxi_es there as well?" James turned to Peter, "No wonder it was so bloody cheap."

"Yes, _thank you_ James. As I was saying, now that the place is… pretty much animal free, I will be able to move in!"

A cheer from the rest of the group, and smiles from the surrounding tables. Sirius inclined his head slightly, lips curving into a smirk. "Thank you. And I reckon you guys should move in with me."

The cheering stopped almost immediately, and Sirius raised his eyebrows in question. The three others sat there, looking blankly at him with their mouths slightly open. Sirius let them stare for a moment (they were probably admiring his fantastic looks) before sitting back down with a thud. "Okay…Some words would be good round about now…"

The three glanced at each other awkwardly.

"I can't," said Peter almost immediately, turning back to Sirius. "Sorry Pads, but you know mum's ill right now and, well…"

"Yeah no problem. I thought that might be it." Slightly relieved, (but not showing it) Sirius brushed aside Peter's apologetic look with a grin and a wave of the hand, "Remus?"

Remus was suddenly enthralled with his ice cream, picking off the almonds with his long fingers. "I don't think I should," he said quietly.

Sirius' grin fell, "And why not?" he probed, leaning across the table towards him with deep grey eyes filled with a mixture of irritation, curiosity and disappointment. Remus glanced over his shoulder, before leaning in and hissing across the table. "It's just not a good idea Padfoot, and you know it. I mean, it's a _flat_ for god's sake! What's going to happen during _that time_? You could… I could…" He looked pained even thinking about it.

"Ugh! Fine!" Sirius flung himself backwards into the chair, crossing his arms and looking moody for a second. He seemed to consider arguing with Remus some more, but it was one of those rare occasions when the logical side of his brain kicked in and it told him that having a werewolf running round a flat, though very entertaining on some levels, probably wasn't a great idea. So instead of persuing it, he turned to James with an upset expression. "What about you then Mister Prongs? I have been rejected by two of my best mates, are you about to follow their example?"

"Well," James said brightly, a thoughtful expression stretching his face comically, "I suppose... and if I take in the tax reasons..." He pretended to think hard for a ridiculously long amount of time, causing Sirius to groan and mime hanging himself. "James, if you take much longer I'm afraid I'll have to retract the offer," he said seriously.

James grinned crookedly, "If you're going to be imptient... I guess I'll have to move in with you Mister Padfoot."

"Really?" Sirius' mood vanished almost immediately, and he looked across at James, a wide grin beginning to unfurl, "You serious?"

"No, I think we established many years ago that you're Siri…" James' joke was squashed as Sirius jumped off his chair and flung his arms round him, hugging him so tightly he was lifted slightly off his seat. "It's fine…" rasped James over his shoulder, "I don't need to breathe that often anyway."

At the table, the other two were looking on, seemingly caught between jealousy and amusement. Amusement, of course, won out in the end.

"You guys look cool." grinned Peter.

"And straight." added Remus.

"Yep! Straight as a banana."

Sirius let James go and looked meaningfully at the two others. He then looked over at James, who raised an eyebrow. Seconds later, Sirius was down on one knee and extending to arms to James, who had crossed his legs most attractively. Then Sirius, being without shame, began to proclaim his love to James very, very loudly. So loudly it caused several passers by to stop and watch, clutching their bags tightly. When Sirius was done, claiming that James' round glasses reminded him of 'the smoky beauty of crystal balls'. James pressed one hand to his forehead, "What are you saying Sirius?"

"Darling James, will you move with me into my nest of love?"

"Why yes, yes I will!" cried James, clasping his hands together and fluttering his eyelashes. "My parents will be so happy!"

It was probably true – James and Sirius definitely kept Mr and Mrs Potter on their toes. They would be glad to have the house to themselves again, without having to live in fear of dungbombs and singing fruit (a more recent idea of Sirius').

Sirius extended his hand and James took hold of it tightly. The two took off down the street, skipping merrily between the crooked houses and confused shoppers and singing an old, out of tune love song. Remus and Peter sat comfortably in the shade of the umbrella, laughing as the new roommates vanished round a corner.

Peter raised his eyebrows at his companion, "I guess we're paying after all then?"


	2. Piles of Boxes

Chapter Two: Piles of boxes

Sirius' flat was placed at the top of a four storey house on the edge of London. The three living spaces beneath it were being let by people who either only lived there part of the year or by people who lived in their offices - both of which suited James and Sirius very well.

The flat itself was made of the traditional red brick, with large windows and a strange, musty smell left over from the previous occupant – a witch with a fascination for magical creatures to rival Hagrid's. The carpets were a darkish blue and relatively clean, though it was hard to tell, covered as they were by cardboard boxes. There was a small kitchen, ready to use, and the wallpaper hadn't even begun to peel – though it was white with pink polka-dots. All in all, it wasn't in bad shape, though a few times there was a distinct rustling in the walls and cupboards.

By the time lunchtime rolled around, James could be found carrying the last box up the flights of stairs, staggering slightly under the weight and making groaning noises that the others all ignored. Remus could be found holding the door open on the top landing but apart from that, no 'one else could be seen. This may have been because James' vision was obscured by the large beaters bat poking out of the box, but that wasn't the point. The point was that he had to be led into the living room by his friend, complaining all the way.

"Why can't we just levitate it up through the window? We'd be _done_ right now!"

"Oh yes, and I'm sure that wouldn't look strange to people innocently passing by."

Sirius looked up from where he'd been throwing books haphazardly onto the wonky shelf that Peter had put up hours before. "We could attach a rope to it." He threw one particularly heavy book onto the shelf and the whole thing gave a wobble. Sirius eyed it suspiciously, but when it didn't fall he relaxed and turned to say something else. The shelf took that moment to fall cleanly off the wall, causing books to scatter everywhere and the cold cup of tea which sat next to them to shatter and stain the carpet.

Sirius slowly turned from James and Remus and stared at the piece of wood on the floor. "Well. Bugger me."

As if cued, Lily Evans came in from the small kitchen, smiling broadly while dressed in an overlarge shirt and jeans. She was clutching a plate full of sandwiches. "I made food!" she called, sitting down crossed legged on the top of a particularly sturdy box and grabbing one off the top.

"Excellent!" Sirius jumped over the slowly spreading tea and piles of junk to sit down next to her, shoving a whole sandwich into his mouth. James himself promptly dropped the final box with a crash, narrowly avoiding Remus' foot, and settled himself on Lily's other side. The other two joined them shortly after, beginning to munch through the huge platter as they admired their handiwork.

The living room was fit to bursting, but nevertheless was beginning to take shape. The corners which Lily, Remus and Peter had been working on were especially tidy, with everything arranged according to height and type on top of various surfaces. James' and Sirius' were slightly less organised, but managed to give the place a 'lived in' appeal. That's what they said anyway. The only thing on that side of the room which seemed slightly cared for was James' broomstick, which was leaning up against the wall in pride of place.

After a few minutes hungrily chewing, there was a flapping noise outside one of the large windows. It made Peter jump and choke on a crumb, and as Sirius absent-mindedly smacked him on the back, the group looked up to see two big owls sitting on the windowsill. They had the dark plumage and serious eyes of the school owls, and clutched identical letters in their beaks. Slowly, Sirius stood and made his way across to the window, brushing crumbs off his hands onto the floor and leaving Peter spluttering.

"What is it?" asked Lily curiously. She craned her neck in an attempt to see the letters but decided against actually standing up, preferring instead to lean gently against James as Sirius took the letters from the birds.

"I think…" Taking another bite of sandwich, Sirius flicked the letter over. On the back was a bold crest showing a lion, serpent, badger and raven. Sirius nodded and swallowed, "Yep. NEWT results."

Lily jumped to her feet immediately, emerald eyes wide and expression horrified. She was quickly followed by Remus. "What? No! They can't be!"

"They're not due for a week!" squeaked Remus, in an unusual display of emotion.

"No, they're due today," corrected James, standing up and striding over to Sirius, who passed him his letter. He took it and inspected the address on the front.

"How do you know?" pressed Lily. James waved the letter in her face, one eyebrow raised, and she pouted in response. "Shut up."

James grinned, clamped another sandwich between his teeth, and opened the letter noisily. The envelope ripped messily and caught the edge of the parchment inside, which James whipped out and shook open. Holding it in one hand, he removed the ham sandwich from his mouth and skimmed the letter.

* * *

_**Nastily Exhausting Wizarding Tests – Results.**_

_Pass grades:_

_Outstanding (O) _

_Exceeds Expectations (E) _

_Acceptable (A)_

_Fail grades:_

_Poor (P)_

_Dreadful (D) _

_Troll (T)_

_JAMES POTTER HAS ACHIEVED:_

_Defence against the Dark Arts: O_

_Transfiguration: O_

_Charms: O_

_Potions: O_

_Herbology: E _

* * *

More than enough.

Grinning broadly, James passed the letter to Lily, who read it avidly several times before looking up at him, a wide grin ripping across her face. She looked back down at the letter, then gave a squeak and threw her arms round him. "I knew you'd do it!" She smiled into his ear, "I knew it!"

James laughed and hugged her tight, his blood pounding in his ears and almost drowning out his thoughts, which were spinning in circles. The school would send the results to the ministry, so hopefully he would hear from them tomorrow... would these be okay? Would the Herbology grade be a problem?

Lily pulled slightly away and kissed him gently, but he was too lost in his own head for it to register properly. She pulled away and smiled at him, "Erm… hi?"

"Oh! Sorry," James smiled down at her and tried to pull his mind to the present, "Just thinking." He looked down into those brilliant bright eyes and felt the familiar feeling in his chest – like his heart had been doused in warm water.

Sirius' voice cut through the moment like a hot knife through butter. "I know! I'll make us a celebratory cake! It'll be awesome! I'll put almonds in it, and…"

James pulled away from Lily, rubbing his forehead and smiling slightly – though against his better judgement. "Sirius, maybe you've forgotten, but you're a terrible cook. _Terrible_."

"Hey! I'm not that bad!"

"Remember that time you made Peter a cake? He had to go to St Mungos to have his stomach drained…"

"Well, he did eat three quarters of it!"

"…and the rest of us were throwing up for three days." James finished, slipping an arm round Lily, who looked sympathetic but didn't stay to console Sirius. Instead she kissed James one more time on the cheek and grabbed her bag from the new sofa, still covered in plastic. James was reluctant to remove it in fear that Padfoot, in animagus form, would have an 'accident' on it as a hilarious drunken joke. That and he kind of liked the way it felt when he sat on it. He pondered these things while Lily slipped the bag over her shoulder, before noticing and slipping back home with a thud. "You taking off then?"

"Yeah," Lily stepped over yet another box (they seemed to be breeding) and stood with her hand on the door handle. "I want to see if mine have arrived."

"But we haven't finished unpacking!"

Lily rolled her eyes, "Knowing you two, it'll still be here tomorrow."

Remus took her lead and stood, climbing over the boxes and stumbling a few times on his way to the door. "I'll join you."

"And me," added Peter, "Can't put it off forever."

"You're _all_ leaving?" Sirius moaned, "How is this supposed to be a party pad when there's just two of us?"

James glanced across at him from where he was re-reading his letter. "Nice to know I'm appreciated. And I live in a _party pad_ now?"

"Shut up James. You know you love it."

A few hours later, after the sun had set and stars had started to peer shyly out of the night, James made his way to the open window. He glanced down onto the empty street below before climbing out onto the broad window ledge. His strong hands grabbed hold of the gutter and he swung himself out onto the tiled roof a couple of feet above him. Small patches of green and brown moss were huddled under the grey slate and James avoided them as he sat down next to Sirius, who was already crouched on the cold rooftop.

In the distance, the hundreds upon thousands of lights which made up muggle London shimmered and were reflected slightly in the water of the Thames, dyed black by the night. The sky itself was a rich blue, with grey clouds hovering threateningly in the distance while Sirius passed James a firewhisky. James accepted it with a nod of thanks, popping the top and slipping it into his jeans pocket. He pulled his knees up to his chest slightly, resting his forearm on it casually while he took a sip. The liquid flew swiftly down his throat, burning slightly and boiling in the pit of his chest for a second before settling in his stomach. James gave a contented sigh.

"This is what I thought it would be like." He took another gulp. "You know… growing up."

"Me too." Sirius flopped onto his back, one hand under his head and his bottle balanced on his stomach. "I figured it would be just hanging around, having a good time and getting drunk. Guess I didn't consider that there'd be a war on at the same time."

James gave a hum of agreement, staring out into the heart of the city. "No, I guess not." Even from here you could hear the hum of life carrying on as ordinary, completely unaware of the two young men crouched on the roof. Below them a group of people walked down the street, laughing and shouting, on their way back from a bar and heading for their next Saturday night destination.

Sirius glanced after the group of people and watched them enter a house at the end of the road. The door opened for them and blew a gust of heavy base and bright light onto the street, before smothering it again. Lights and shadows danced behind the thin curtains on the ground floor.

"Party," commented Sirius. James nodded.

Sirius downed his bottle, before shuffling down the pitched roof so his feet were dangling down past the gutter. He looked over his shoulder at his best friend of seven years, "Fancy crashing it?"

The bespectacled man swallowed the last mouthful of alcohol thoughtfully, before nodding and smirking at Sirius. "Yeah okay."


	3. The Morning After

Chapter Three: The morning after.

James stirred in bed, furrowing his thick eyebrows and clawing around for the duvet that should be keeping him warm. Cold air was currently whipping around his bare shoulders and causing small bumps to appear across his torso. He wanted nothing more than to hug the thick new cover close - especially with his head pounding like it was. James finally felt his fingers brush against something warm, and he smiled to himself before grabbing hold of it.

It moved.

James' eyes clicked open, wide with horror.

_What the…?_

He stared blankly towards the box which was serving as his bedside table, and desperately tried to remember last night. He was rewarded with brief flashes of memories; Pouring drinks for a large group of people, staring blearily into a mirror while lights flashed and music banged, dancing with Sirius on top of a table laden with drinks…

James groaned and immediately clapped a hand to his mouth as whatever – _whoever_ – was next to him shifted again. He couldn't put this off much longer. His head was swimming with muddled images of Lily and parties, and a horrible churning feeling was starting in his gut – a mixture of guilt and vomit probably…

Gathering his nerve, James turned slightly and propped himself up on his elbows. As he did, his head gave a mighty pound of pain and his stomach heaved. He swallowed hard against the wave of nausea and peered cautiously down at his companion.

Dark hair, cut quite short, was spread across the white pillow, stirring slightly in the breeze from the open window. A long, pale neck led down to strangely broad shoulders that were covered by a stained white t-shirt. James winced – _what was he thinking?_ And they had stolen his covers!

Suddenly the figure rolled over, rubbing its eyes sleepily and sighing. They let their hand drop back onto the pillow and looked blankly up at James, who stared back with his mouth slightly open. The horribly, _horribly_ familiar face looked back and quickly turned from an expression of innocent tiredness to one of absolute, all-consuming terror.

"_Shit_!" bellowed Sirius, scrambling backwards away from James and off the bed, his eyes never wavering from his face. James himself couldn't force any words out of the narrow tube of his throat. He had reached a new level of speechlessness. He wouldn't be surprised if he never spoke again. The sight of Sirius in his bed would be burned into his retina forever.

Sirius' head appeared once again over the side of the bed. He looked at James for one long movement before speaking in the hoarse voice of a man who was suffering from a serious hangover. "Please say you have clothes on."

James nodded mutely, and Sirius gave a groan of relief before collapsing back onto the bedroom floor. "Oh Merlin," James heard him mutter, "I thought my brain was going to explode."

James groaned, his voice finally returning, and fell back onto his mattress. His heart was now pounding horribly as well as his head, and a lump of vomit was growing into a ball at the back of his throat. Sirius' head popped up once again, now angry, "But what are you doing in my bed?"

James sighed, "I'm not Pads. This is _my_ room."

Sirius looked around him, taking in the red walls and the broomstick propped in the corner. He gave another groan and slid back onto the floor. "Crap."

Suddenly the door handle turned and both heads turned to gaze stupidly at the opening door. It swung fully open and Remus came in, clutching a steaming mug belonging to James and brimming with hot coffee. Light streamed in from the living room and it ripped into James' expanded pupils, sending him reeling backwards. There was a moment when Remus froze, but then he leant casually against a doorframe, raised one bushy eyebrow and took in the scene before him. "Well," he said finally, "who wants to tell me what's going on?"

James stared stonily at his friend, who was visibly fighting back a peal of laughter. Remus' other eyebrow rose to meet the first and he cocked his head in a lupine manner, making James sigh in defeat, "We got a bit drunk."

Sirius had also emerged from his slumped position on the floor. "Is that for me?" He was eyeing the steaming mug hopefully and Remus snorted. "God no! Make your own!"

Sirius pulled a face and slumped back down onto the floor. "Fine! I will," he pouted, though made no move to get up. To be fair, he did attempt it once, but settled back looking slightly greener than before. Remus smirked and sipped his coffee with exaggerated relish before smacking his lips and grinning.

James groaned. His head was going to explode. "Remus? Why are you here?"

"Oh!" The werewolf reached into his pocket and produced a small glass ball. Dangling from a chain was a golden key. "I have a key."

"You do?"

"Yeah, Wormtail, Lily and I copied them."

"Wormtail and Lils have one too?" James glanced at Sirius, "That probably doesn't do much for our security."

"Hey, I didn't even realise we had keys," muttered Sirius, raising his hand to his head. He rubbed his temples with finger and thumb, while shielding his eyes from the light with his palm. "The bathroom doesn't lock – why should the front door?"

"The bathroom doesn't lock?" Remus laughed, "You guys really overpaid for this place. I knew I saw a Doxy in the hall."

Lily suddenly appeared at the door, smiling broadly and carrying a cup of tea. "Hey James! I thought… oh!" She stopped suddenly; looking from James sprawled on the bed, to Sirius sprawled in a similar manner on the floor. "Erm… I made tea?"

Sirius perked up slightly, "For me?"

"No."

"Morning Lily!" smiled Remus, moving aside so Lily could place James' tea on his nightstand/box. Lily settled herself on the end of James' bed and smiled across at Remus. "Hey! How long have you been here?"

"Couple of hours? I stopped by after going to that corner shop... Rainbows or something."

"A couple of hours?" cried Sirius and James from their current positions. They were completely ignored.

"Oh! How is that place?" Lily picked up James' tea and took a sip despite James' protests, "I heard it was really expensive, but better than going all the way to Diagon Alley."

"It's not bad…" mused Remus, "And you can get your Daily Prophet there. You need to ask at the counter though; they obviously can't put it on the shelves. I think they guy's a squib… anyway, it's cheaper than getting it delivered."

Lily nodded thoughtfully, and took another sip of tea. James threw himself back onto the bed in exasperation just as a rattle of keys and heavy footsteps announced another's arrival.

"Morning everyone!" came another laughing voice, and James' eyes widened in disbelief as Peter entered his bedroom. Lily and Remus both grinned and made noises of greeting. Sirius swore loudly and attempted to pull himself off the floor using James' duvet. He failed miserably.

"What's that?" Peter gestured to Remus' key, still clutched in his hand.

"It's a remembrall," Remus stepped over Sirius to show it to Peter, who examined the miniature glass ball closely. "Look, hold it tightly…"

"Right!" Bellowed James, sitting bolt upright, "That's it! Everyone out!"

There was an unnatural silence as Remus, Peter and Lily all stared at him dumbly. Peter's mouth opened slightly and James glared around the room, which was now getting quite crowded. The only thing that moved was Sirius, who was moaning from the floor, half covered by duvet. Then they all shrugged and, giving each other meaningful looks, filed out of the room, Lily taking James' tea with her.

James gave a sigh of relief and snuggled back down into his bed. The only noise now was his own breathing and the muffled murmur of conversation from the living room. The drummer in his temple had only just quietened when suddenly there was a shuffle below him. James sighed, "That includes you Padfoot."

"But I can't move!"

"Please try."

"James!" came a cry from the living room, and the door burst open once again. James wanted to burst into tears. Why couldn't he have normal friends who let him be hung-over in peace? He bet Dumbledore didn't have this problem...

Remus came skidding through the now open door, his face flushed and a letter clutched tightly in his hand. "This arrived while we were all in here – it's got the ministry crest on it!"

* * *

_Dear _Mr. J. Potter

_Thank you for applying into the auror training programme. We have received your NEWT results from _Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry_, and are very pleased to invite you to the Ministry of Magic, London, on _Monday July 23rd_ to take part in some final tests. If you perform well we will be delighted to accept you into our programme._

_On this day we will ask you to complete a series of character and aptitude tests which will analyse, among other things, your dedication, perseverance and coping skills, along with your ability in practical defence. Please arrive at your designated time (shown at the bottom on this letter) and travel to Level Two. Here you will find Auror Headquarters, where these tests will take place. Please be sure to check in with reception upon arrival._

_Thank you once again for applying and congratulations on your exemplary exam results. We look forward to seeing you on the _23rd

_Yours Sincerely, _

_Bartemius Crouch (Sr.)_

_Head of Auror Office_

_**Appointment for: **_**James Potter**

**12:45pm, Monday 23rd July**

**Professor Slumpolt **

* * *

James didn't move for a moment. His mind had gone completely blank. Monday 23rd. That was tomorrow.

_If you perform well we will be delighted to accept you into our programme._

"Well…" he muttered, his voice was suddenly hoarse and he coughed to clear it, "well."

"Did you get it?" shot Remus, grabbing the parchment from James' limp hand. He read through it slowly and carefully, as was typical of him, before giving a burst of laughter and looking up at James, a wide grin spreading his face. James grinned back, his stomach flipping around him like a grounded fish. He was so going to throw up in a minute…

Meanwhile, Sirius had finally managed to right himself at the prospect on reading a letter not addressed to him. He hauled himself across the floor and stood behind Remus, grabbing his shoulder as he swayed slightly. Sirius' grey eyes closed briefly as he paled and fought back a wave of vomit, but then opened enough to read the letter Remus was holding.

"Prongs the auror…" said Sirius thoughtfully. He smiled shook his head in bafflement, "We're all doomed."

James was just throwing a pillow at Sirius, who didn't have the reactions to duck in time, when Peter came in, doing a strange little dance and clutching miserably at his groin. The other three looked him up and down, and Sirius and James both turned even greener and had to look away.

"You okay Pete?" questioned Remus lightly, folding the letter between nimble fingers.

"Is anyone in the bathroom?" whined, peering over at the door, which was closed tightly. Last night someone (James would always insist that it was Sirius, who would always insist it was James) had carved the words 'To let' into the white wood, and they stood out clear and ugly in the light of day. "I don't know where Lily is and I don't want to…"

"Let's check," said James, and walked over to the door. The news from the ministry seemed to have flushed the worst remnants of last night from his head, leaving him in a remarkably good mood, though still not capable of solid food. He grabbed the handle and opened it so the wooden panel swung into the small bathroom. It connected with something and there was a shriek and a thud, quickly followed by a groan of pain. James swiftly shut the door, "Lily's in there."

"Did you just hit her with the door?"

James nodded. "Just one of the benefits of having a _very_ inconveniently placed toilet."

"Doomed," muttered Sirius, as Peter gave a whimper and restarted his skipping, "Completely doomed."


	4. Auror Tests

Chapter Four: Auror Tests.

James stood nervously in the entrance hall to the Ministry of Magic. Around him ministry workers pushed their way past, hurrying so as not to be late for their afternoon shifts. A bony shoulder connected with James' and he reeled sideways, rubbing his arm and glaring at the offending man, who had carried on towards the lift without so much as an 'excuse me'.

A familiar small hand came to rest on James' shoulder, covering his own, and he turned to see Lily smiling up at him. Behind her stood his three best friends and, to his surprise, his parents. They were all smiling warmly at him, and the knot in James' stomach loosened slightly.

"What are you doing here?" he said, returning Lily's warm hug and looking over her shoulder at the others.

"We wouldn't miss our son's big day now, would we?" beamed his Mother, moving to take Lily's place in his embrace. Her mane of thick black hair tickled James' chin and his Father placed a hand on his shoulder. James smiled up at him, and both men's hazel eyes creased.

His Mother let him go, eyes damp, and James grinned down at her. Suddenly a large weight was on his shoulders and James gave a yell as Sirius jumped onto his back. He was quickly joined by both Remus and Peter, and James was squashed beneath a literal dog-pile of bodies. Laughing, he pushed them all off, only to be forced into a headlock and have his hair ruffled furiously by Sirius. His parents and girlfriend looked fondly on, chuckling gently.

"Okay, okay!" James protested, trying and failing to push Sirius away, "I've got to go!"

"Let him go Sirius!" smiled Lily, and Sirius begrudgingly let go. "Good luck James," she kissed him briefly, and hugged him again. "We'll all be waiting back at yours."

"Right." James took yet another deep breath and glanced back at the group, "Well, wish me luck!"

"Good luck!" they chorused, and the last thing James saw before being swept away in the crowd was their smiling faces.

Ten minutes later, James was crammed in a lift with a dozen other men and woman, all of whom looked frazzled and tired despite the fact it was only Monday lunchtime. The sound of the chains lowering the heavy box down the shaft added another bout of nerves to James' already twisting innards, and he let out a hiss of air through his nostrils.

The lift shuddered yet again and chains creaked as it came to a stop. An uptight woman's voice echoed round the small space.

"Level three, Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes, including the Accidental Magic Reversal Squad, Obliviator Headquarters and Muggle-Worthy Excuse Committee."

There was a moment of chaos as people dashed to escape the claustrophobic conditions, while at the same time several chestnut owls swooped into the lift and took perch wherever they could. One took a seat on James' shoulder, and he couldn't help but glance nervously at it. It looked back through golden orbs and James looked quickly away, pretending to be fascinated by the door. It was a mark of how nervous he was feeling that he could be intimidated by an owl.

The lift restarted with a jolt and a crunch, but was soon stopping again. James' heart hit his throat as the voice informed him he had arrived at Level Two.

"Level two, Department of Magical Law Enforcement, including the Improper use of Magic Office, Auror Headquarters and Wizengamot Administration Services."

By the time the announcement had been made, James was already striding purposefully down the corridor, which was lined with doors and windows. He approached a set of heavy oak doors and stepped through them, emerging in a large hall-like room which was alive with chatter and laughter.

James set off through the rows of cubicles, peering curiously into each one. They were all different, he noticed. Some had family photos showing smiling children and spouses, while others had newspaper clippings promoting personal achievements and successes. Some were organised right down to the quills in their inkwells, while others were a literal jumble sale of random objects. The only thing that seemed constant was the tired but tough and resolute faces of the Auror's themselves.

A young man smiled at him from a middle cubicle. He was tall and dark skinned, and must have only been a couple of years older than James himself. The small golden name plaque read 'Kingsley Shacklebolt'. The man's head was shaven bald, and he looked out at James through deep brown eyes. "Can I help you?" he asked in a deep tenor of a voice.

James smiled back, "Yeah – I'm here for the Auror tests?"

The man nodded, "Ah yes. Just take the door at the end," he stood and pointed over his cubicle wall at yet another set of double doors, "and then it's the seventh door on the left."

"Thanks." James grinned lopsidedly at the man, who nodded, and moved away towards the large doors. Pushing one open, he found himself in a long corridor lit by hundreds of torches mounted in golden holders. A deep red carpet lay on the floor and every few feet rested a portrait depicting famous Auror's past, each framed in an intricate golden web and clearly labelled.

James followed the corridor down the flickering hall, counting the doors and trying not to look at the portraits hanging from the walls. He could hear them muttering as he passed them, and his stomach turned over uncomfortably. Finally he reached the seventh door and stood in front of it for a moment, breathing deeply. If he could just convince himself he was going in for another detention with McGonagall, then he should be alright… He sucked in another warm, musty lungful of air and pushed open the door.

James found himself in a tiny room, barely bigger than three of the cubicles he'd left behind. He suddenly longed for that well-lit room, bustling with activity. Here the walls were panelled with dark wood, and with even less light than the corridor. In the middle of the room there was a desk, where a middle-aged woman sat on a hard backed chair. Her desk was scattered with pieces of paper, and a candlestick lit them with a dull orange light while dripping its pale wax onto the wood. Behind her, a dark door loomed ominously.

James approached the desk, his footsteps echoing in the empty space. "Hi," he said nervously, hands twisting behind his back, "I'm here for the Auror tests?"

The witch looked sternly up at him. Her pupils were uncommonly large, and James got the impression they could see right into his head. He shifted underneath the probing gaze and eventually tore his eyes away, staring over her head at the dark wooden door. The woman gave a snort and began to shuffle her notes around. "What time was your appointment?" she barked.

"Quarter to one."

The woman nodded and a piece of parchment seemed to fly into her hand. She scanned it for a moment, before her head snapped back up. "James Potter?"

He nodded.

"Take a seat," she gestured behind James, who turned. A stiff wooden bench was backed against the wall. "Professor Slumpolt will be out in a moment."

As he lowered himself onto the seat, a small explosion took place in the pit of James' stomach. He couldn't trick himself any longer. This wasn't detention, or some stupid exam done in school. This was so much more important. This is what would decide whether or not he would become an Auror, the profession he'd dreamt for ever since he was six years old...

"_Now James," his father said, smiling down at his son, "This is Jacob Salter."_

_James looked up into the man's face. He was remarkably square, and he seemed so… old. Like the teddy bear tucked beneath his duvet, which had been hugged too many times and was missing half its fur. The man squatted down and smiled at James. "Well hello young man."_

_James tucked himself his father's leg, with only his bright brown eyes and mop of dark hair visible around the black material. The man's smile grew behind his bushy beard and he leaned closer to the boy. "Hey James – do you like stories?"_

_James' head bobbed in the affirmative, and he emerged from behind his father's leg, though his hand still clutched tightly to the fabric. He smiled nervously at the man, and his eyes crinkled. "Well James – I have a few stories for you."_

James had spent the entire evening sitting on the rug in the drawing room, knees pulled up to his chest, eyes wide and his mouth slightly open. His parents had sat on the sofa behind him while Jacob Salter had taken the winged armchair, entertaining them with stories of his team's heroics. He had spoken well into the night, and from then on James' favourite game had been re-enacting the tales throughout the many halls and rooms of his family home.

As he'd grown, he'd given up on the re-enactments, but they had always stayed in the back of his mind. James had been genuinely upset when Salter had passed away in his forth year, but his resolve had nothing but strengthened. He _would_ become an Auror, no matter what.

So it was with a new strength that James looked up as a noise sounded before him. A man had just entered the room through the back door, and was taking a piece of parchment from the severe woman at the desk. He moved towards James and took a seat next to him on the bench. As the man examined the sheet, James took the opportunity to scan the man who would presumably be deciding whether or not to allow him into the training scheme.

It was not hard to believe that Slumpolt worked where he did. He was pressing seven foot in height, and had the broadest shoulders James had ever seen. He felt suddenly very self-conscious of his own slim frame. He was built like a chaser, while this man was quite clearly a beater. James liked to think of things in term of Quidditch – it was much simpler.

The man looked up from the parchment and obviously scanned James, who did the same. Slumpolt's features seemed too small for his face, with his nose, mouth and eyes squashed closely together. A long scar ran from the left tip of his mouth to his earlobe.

"Well… James!" he looked down at the paper once again, "I must say your results are very impressive."

"Erm… thanks?"

"Hmm." Slumpolt flicked over the parchment to read what was scrawled on the back, and James craned his neck in an attempt to see himself. The teacher however, tilted the paper so it was in shadow and impossible to read. Was it James' imagination, or did he smile to himself as he did so?

"Right..." he folded the paper neatly and set it next to him, before looking at James with his curiously pale blue eyes. "I suppose I better tell you what's going to happen today." He paused, considering his words before continuing, "I'm here to access how _suitable_ you would be for a career in the Auror profession. As you can imagine, it's a very competitive area of work, and we only pick the best. People who achieve great exam results often find that, although the theory comes easily, they cannot stand the pressure of the actual job."

James nodded, swallowing hard, and Slumpolt's eyes narrowed. "In order to pick out the people who would be most valuable to the department, the senior officials have created a series of tests. Not written exams, you must understand, but three practical assessments, each lasting half an hour." Slumpolt cleared his throat, "I will, of course, be watching you throughout, and be giving you marks out of 60 for each activity. At the end, any mark higher than 170 will get you into the programme. Any questions?"

James shook his head. Even if he had, he didn't think he'd have been able to voice them. His heart was pounding in his throat and stopping any words coming out of his mouth. Slumpolt nodded.

"Wilma? The form please?" The witch at the desk waved her hand, and another piece of parchment flew across the room into Slumpolt's outstretched hand. "Just a formality, you see James. If you could just read this here and sign at the bottom…"

James scanned the parchment pushed at him, though only certain words registered in his foggy mind.

'_Does not accept responsibility… grievous bodily harm…. death… mental or physical… risk…' _

James accepted the quill from Slumpolt and scribbled his name at the bottom. He would just have to survive the test…

"Right!" Slumpolt was suddenly on his feet and beaming. "I suppose we should get started then! Is the first hall free Wilma?"

James glanced across at Wilma, who was scrambling in her desk drawer. She pulled out a piece of parchment and pressed her wand tip to it. James saw the ink glow blue and the letters squirm around slightly while the receptionist looked blankly down. "Yes," she finally said, "The last candidate just left."

"Excellent!" boomed Slumpolt, practically bouncing towards the door at the back. James followed at a much slower pace, his hand clenched around his wand in his pocket. He stopped for a moment to put his signed form on the desk, and Wilma looked up at him. For a moment a reassuring smile hovered on her thin lips, but then she dove back into her paperwork with as much ferocity as ever. James glanced over his shoulder one last time, and followed Slumpolt through the back door.

"Right James," grinned the man as he strode down the empty corridor. "This first test is designed to test your determination and, more specifically, your _focus_. It will also test your practical defence skills, but don't worry about that too much. We can teach you spells – we can't teach you determination." Slumpolt smiled down at him, and once again clapped his large hands together. James noticed a golden wedding band twinkling on his finger.

They quickly arrived in front of a small, innocent looking black door with an intricate silver handle. James looked at the delicate engraving, feeling his heart pound in his ears. Slumpolt's voice seemed to come from a long way away.

"So, if you'd like to pass me your cloak and anything else you have... You'll only need your wand here."

James pulled off his cloak, which he'd only really worn to look the part, to reveal his everyday jeans and T-Shirt. He took his wand and gripped it hard in his right hand, feeling the familiar warmth spreading through his palm. Slumpolt tucked the cloak over his arm and took hold of the handle on the black door. He looked straight at James, his eyes boring down on him, and was suddenly serious again. "You have half an hour James. You need to tail the man in the black robes. Understand? Ignore all distractions. Just follow the man in the black."

James nodded, his eyes wide, and the door opened with an ominous creak, revealing a threatening black space beyond. James closed his eyes, took a breath and held it as he stepped over the threshold.

The door slammed shut behind him, but James didn't flinch. It was the same when he had been executing a prank back at school; once he had a target in mind, nothing could derail him. And he had a target; _Follow the man in black_.

James moved cautiously into the room, eyes flicking from one shadowy corner to another. It was completely black, he could see nothing. He could feel hard, cold stone underneath his feet, and hear his own ragged breathing around him, but he was completely blind.

There was a flurry of movement in the corner of his vision and James spun on his heel, his heartbeat pounding in his ears. As his eyes slowly adjusted to the dark and the shadow, a series of doors and corridors became known to him. He was in a labyrinth of passageways, with no idea where he was supposed to be going and no contact with anyone… except…

There! In the closest doorway to him! There was no mistaking the whisper of a robe as it brushed against the floor, or the silhouette of a man as he rushed past. James powered after him, his feet falling heavy on the stone as he entered a new area, just as dark and foreboding as the first.

With no warning a light flashed across his vision, bright red and hot, and James fell back with a quickly stifled yell. Spells were darting across the space, close enough for James to feel the heat of their magical energy. These would hurt him if they hit their mark, but James couldn't worry too much about it. He took a breath and ran, dodging the flying sparks with the reflexes gained from years of Quidditch. One brushed his wrist and he gasped at the horrible burning sensation that ran up his arm. It was as if his whole arm was on fire…

But he could see the robed figure, illuminated by the flashing spells. He wasn't black anymore, but red, green and gold, and he was winding in and out of the sparks as if they were nothing more than raindrops. James wouldn't let himself loose him. He scrambled after him; ignoring the pain in his arm and the blisters he could already feel forming. He almost threw himself down the narrow passage the man disappeared through, and was soon back out in the open space of a dark corridor.

There was something in this room. James could hear it whimpering, like the scared cries of a small child. There was no whistle of spells here, no flashing light. Just complete darkness and small, terrified sobs. James automatically scanned the room for the source of the noise, but saw nothing.

'_Ignore all distractions.'_

But still, the sobbing continued from the bowels of the room. The kind of sobs which broke your heart and ripped your soul. James ached to find whoever was crying and silence them somehow; to make it all okay again. If only to relieve his own aching heart. There was a moment when he believed that just thinking it had done some good, as the sobs stilled for a moment. But a second later they resumed at full force. A child crying in the dark.

James made to move towards the sound, but pulled himself back with effort. No! He couldn't! He had to stay focused on the task he was given. Where had the figure gone?

James scanned the room and then, with a jerk, saw him. He was standing quite calmly just feet from James, watching him battle against himself to keep from running towards the source of that horrible, horrible noise which still echoed off the stone walls.

The man gave him one long look from underneath the shadow of his hood, and James hesitated a moment before raising his wand. But by the time he was ready the man had vanished round yet another corner. He groaned and broke into a sprint, his legs pounding against the stone floor as he whipped round the corner and froze.

James felt his stomach hit the floor and his throat clench against a wave of vomit. A body lay on the floor, limbs bent at odd angles and a menacing dark puddle spreading from underneath its head. James gave a choked cry as he recognised the face turned towards the floor, half covered by rich red locks.

"Lils?" he hissed, stumbling towards her. But as he got closer more bodies started to loom out of the darkness. The lay sprawled on the floor, their familiar faces pale and lifeless. His Mother, his Father, Remus, Peter… James stumbled backwards with a stifled sob, only to feel his foot nudge something behind him.

James turned slowly, his whole body tingling with dread.

Sirius' empty grey eyes looked up at him. His handsome features showed nothing but horrible, heart-wrenching accusation as he stared blankly up into James' face. James almost vomited right then and there; he could feel its acidity crawling up his throat. He reached one trembling hand towards the crumpled body before him…

A movement caused his head to snap up suddenly, and a spasm of pain went through his neck. A black hem was whipping round the corner. James took one last frantic look at the bodies surrounding him before throwing himself after the man. Dead faces swum in front of his eyes as he ran, but he refused to think of them. '_They're not real_,' he reminded himself, '_they're not real_.'

Suddenly he rounded a corner, and found himself in yet another black room. And there was his quarry, standing boldly in the middle of the space. James skidded to a halt and raised his wand, backing the shadowy figure into a corner.

What now?

Just as he was about to stun the man, there was a sudden rushing noise, like all the air was being sucked out of the room, and James' eyes flickered around the darkness for the source. His wand, however, stayed steadily pointed at the figures head. Then, without any warning, the lights flashed back on, and Professor Slumpolt was revealed to be standing in a far corner.

"Well done James! Jolly good job you did there!" shouted Slumpolt. His deep rumble of a voice seemed unnatural, out-of-place, in this darkly painted room, especially after the hushed silence of the last few minutes.

James' wand fell to his side, and he squinted in the bright light. He saw Slumpolt gesture to the robed figure, who nodded first at the teacher then at James, who inclined his head awkwardly in reply. As the man swept back through the door James had just entered, he turned back to Slumpolt. The older man was scribbling a few last sentences on parchment held in an elegant black leather folder.

"I saw you hesitated in that last room – the one with the Boggart's?" He looked up at James' dismayed face and chuckled fondly, "Don't worry about that too much young man – you coped much better than most. One young woman had to be rescued from there by her own target!"

James gave a wobbly smile. Now that the lights were back on it seemed ridiculous to have been so shaken by a few Boggart's – he'd dealt with them in third year for god's sake! But never had they seemed so… _real_...

"Well!" Slumpolt nodded with satisfaction and snapped closed the folder, "Not a bad score. Not bad at all in fact. Now… if you would like to follow me James, I'll take you through to the next hall..."

* * *

The next hour passed in a blur for James. Nothing seemed difficult after that first test, nothing hurt after seeing what he had seen. Next he was made to duel with Slumpolt himself, and had been surprised by the man's obvious power and speed. James had somehow managed to keep the duel going for a full fifteen minutes, though was eventually struck down by a well timed stunner. When he'd been brought round he'd been covered in sweat and every muscle in his body screamed with pain, but Slumpolt's impressed mutterings had made it all worthwhile.

For the final assessment he was shown into a white room, where he'd met up with a group of five other hopefuls. The room had been empty except for a few buckets, pieces of pipe, instructions and a tray full of food and drink. This was problem solving combined with teamwork. But before they could get started, James practically threw himself on the food, not realising until this exact moment how hungry he was. He wolfed down the sandwiches as he examined the other people in the room, who were eyeing each other curiously.

To his surprise, James recognised a few of the people as students from his own school, his own year. He'd greeted them warmly and suddenly, without any thought, he was back at school. He was back at a prefect meeting, trying to stop the Griffindors and Slytherins killing each other while at the same time organising a new rota for the Saturday night shift. Or he was back at the dormitory, laughing with Sirius and visualising the latest prank, complete with any pitfalls they could meet along the way.

Before he knew it, the whole group was talking and laughing together, tossing the instructions and ideas around while the buckets filled and emptied. And James was once again in charge. This was the position he naturally filled, and he felt genuinely calmer than he had since arriving at the ministry two hours before.

So Three O Clock found James still in the clean white room, feet up on the table and nursing a bottle of butterbeer.

"And then, if you believe it, the old bat went pottering off to find the other Niffler!"

He was just accounting another daring tale of the Marauder's stay at Hogwarts with help from his old schoolfellows when Slumpolt appeared at the door. His large, square shoulders seemed to take up all the space in the frame and James instantly regretted eating so much when he caught his eyes and beckoned for him to follow.

An eerie hush fell over the previously merry room as one by one the applicants all remembered why they were here. James got to his feet and made his way across the space, wondering when his legs had become so heavy. The two men made their way down yet another winding corridor until they came to a small room, which James was ushered into.

"Well James. I won't keep you in the dark any longer," smiled Slumpolt, settling himself behind a desk and gesturing for James to do the same. "I can tell you that you achieved a score of 172."

James stared at him, before collapsing gratefully into the offered seat. "Are you serious?"

"Yes Mr Potter, I assure you I am. You missed five points on the first task, and three on the second. Full marks on the third you'll be pleased to hear." Slumpolt chuckled at James' deliriously happy expression, "As I'm sure you've guessed, this is more than enough to accept you into our course. That is, if you're still interested?"

James nodded madly, a stupid grin now plastered onto his face, and Slughorn gave a boom of laughter. A splatter of spit landed on James' cheek, but he didn't care.

"So that's that then! If you'd like to make your way back to where we first met, Wilma will provide you with all the information you need." He stood, and James followed his lead. The two shook hands, and Slumpolt looked down at him with a strange look in his eye. "I have a feeling we'll be seeing great things from you James," he said, "And, what is more, I believe we will be starting tomorrow. I greatly look forward to teaching you."

"Thanks so much Sir!" gabbled James, wringing the man's broad hand and grinning madly up at him. "Erm… I guess I'll see you tomorrow then!"

"I suppose so. See you later then James."

"Bye sir!" James closed the door softly behind him and rested back against it for a moment, breathing hard. He then forced himself to walk calmly down the corridor until he was quite sure he was out of earshot. Then he broke into a run. James tore down the corridors and towards the lifts, allowing himself a whoop of laughter as he twisted round a corner and out of sight.


	5. A Meeting

Chapter Five: A Meeting

**August 1978**

_It's the weekend. _

That was James' first thought on waking. He could stay in bed for as long as he liked. Hell, he could _live_ in bed if he wanted.

Or at least he could live here until Monday, when he'd have to go back to the ministry for his training.

As it was, James rolled over and flung his arm across the empty bed, relishing how soft and warm it was. At the same time his back and shoulders ached dully, and he groaned. Every morning he woke with his muscles screaming, having been stretched out of shape by the vigorous workout they were put through day in, day out.

Suddenly there was a thud as someone punched his door on their way past. "Prongs! Wake up!"

James' eyes snapped open and he glared at the door for a moment. Then he sighed and pulled himself upward, rubbing the sleep from his eyes and reaching for his glasses. A moment later he emerged fully-dressed from his room, yawning and stretching upwards as he did so.

The main living room had improved greatly since they had first moved in. Its wooden floor was clear of most clutter, and there were no signs of boxes anywhere. The shelves were heaving under the weight of various abandoned books and products, and a few framed photos hung on the wall. The photograph from the groups leavers ball had pride of place above the small fireplace, where is could be easily seen from the slightly stained sofa.

Lily really had looked amazing that night... James examined the picture briefly before pushing open the door to the kitchen, where he found Remus sitting on the counter, swinging his legs and ploughing his way through a very large bowl of cereal. Meanwhile, Sirius was sitting on the tiled floor with his back against the wall. He also had cereal, though he preferred to eat it straight from the box.

James grinned at Remus. "Don't you ever go home?"

"Sometimes. To sleep. Cereal?"

"Yeah. Thanks."

Remus twisted round and grabbed a bowl from the pile stewing next to the sink. He quickly rinsed it before throwing it across the room towards Sirius. It landed neatly in his lap and Sirius tipped the carton so golden 'Sugar Puffs' showered down. James rolled his eyes, "How long you been practicing that?"

"About half an hour." Sirius held out the bowl to James, who took it and sat down on top of the pile of letters which had taken over the only chair. He helped himself to milk before digging in. Noticing this mornings 'Daily Prophet' resting on the side, James picked it up and scanned the front page.

* * *

_**Muggle attacks increasing throughout Britain**_

_**It was revealed today that the number of attacks on Muggles has increased dangerously over the last few months.**_

"_**Although there have been an increased number of wizarding attacks on Muggles over recent times, we urge the Wizarding public not to worry. The ministry is drawing ever closer to catching those responsible, and we fully expect the situation to be over and done with in the very near future," announced the Minister in a pre-arranged speech this morning. **_

* * *

James gave a snort of humourless laughter. Drawing closer to catching those responsible? You didn't spend five days a week working in Auror Headquarters without picking a few things up - the Aurors knew who was behind the attacks and they had lists of supposed 'Death Eaters' plus the ringleader.

Tom Riddle.

But seriously - they were _nowhere near_ catching them, and things were going to get worse before they got better.

But still the ministry felt the need to keep the general public in the dark about the whole thing. They covered things up – paying and threatening the newspapers and magazines to keep quiet and not showing anyone (except the people highest up the ladder) the full extent of the damage.

Sirius' voice sounded through his thoughts. "Rubbish isn't it?"

"Tell me about it," replied James distractedly, throwing down the paper and going back to his food.

Sirius watched him for a moment before turning back to Remus. "So. Moony. Do Werewolves ever come into heat?"

James could actually feel Remus' scathing look as he stared down at his bowl, trying not to laugh through his breakfast. He swallowed and looked enquiringly up at Remus, who glared at him. A strand of sunlight suddenly shot through the blind and almost blinded them both, but as James blinked furiously, something hit him. Why was the sun so high?

"Wait. What's the time?"

"Erm…" Remus glanced up at the clock. It was a beautiful thing, this clock. Sirius had found it at a tourist stand in central London, where it was being proudly displayed behind all the teddy bears dressed as Beefeaters. It had the Union Jack splashed across the face, and the hands were two royal guards – complete with bearskin hats. Remus' eyebrows rose slightly. "Wow. It's nearly two."

"Oh _bugger_ it!" James shoved his cereal at Sirius, who took it without looking, and disappeared towards the door. He grabbed a jacket on the way, vaulted over a chair and raced across the floor. The door slammed behind him and there was a moments silence in the flat.

"Anyway," said Sirius, starting on James' cereal, "as I was saying…"

* * *

When James entered the café Lily was waiting at a table in the corner, arms crossed and looking angrily across at him. James felt his stomach twist under the glare and made his way nervously across towards her. Lily crossed her eyes and eyed him coldly as he approached, long fingers drumming angrily. "You're late."

"I'm so, so sorry," gabbled James, throwing himself into the spare seat. "I slept in, and then I had to watch Remus and Sirius throw bowls around, and then the sun was high so…"

"Shut up now James," said Lily absently, taking the menu from the waiter and smiling politely. James accepted his own menu with a nod and put it down unopened. "Were you here long?"

"Just an hour," she replied coolly.

James winced. "I'll make it up to you! How can I? I'll do anything!"

Lily looked up from her menu, one eyebrow twitching upwards slightly. Then she set down the card and put her elbows on the table. She toyed with the salt shaker for a second, thinking, before she looked up at her boyfriend. "Do you remember that time in fifth year? You and Sirius made our pumpkin juice explode and I got completely covered?"

"No."

Anger flashed in Lily's eyes. "I had to have about twelve showers and it still took all day for the smell to fade."

James winced. He hated thinking about how he'd treated Lily when he was younger. He'd been a typical popular teenage boy – not able to cope with rejection, he had turned to cruel jokes and pranks to get his own back. He regretted it immensely, and knew he'd never be able to get rid of the horrible guilt that bubbled up whenever he thought about it.

He looked nervously across at Lily, who raised her eyebrows even more.

One second and a muttered conversation later James stood up and grabbed the pitcher of water from the next table before climbing onto his chair. He glanced at Lily, who tilted her head onto one side with a small smile. James sighed and lifted the jug, upturning it over his head. As the ice-cold water crashed onto his crown and the rivets began to trickle down his neck, James announced to the slightly flabbergasted diners, "My name is James and I never wash. Ever. So here I am making up for it."

Lily smirked and, satisfied, settled back in her chair. James looked down on her once again, before sighing and adding, "And Lily Evans is the prettiest, smartest girl on the planet and way out of my league."

Lily nodded and he sat down again, pouting slightly. Lily giggled and leaned across the checkered tablecloth, planting a kiss on his protruding bottom lip. James didn't react except to give her an exaggerated stony look. "I hate you."

"Love you too," smiled Lily, and picked up her menu. After a moment the waiter bustled over, trying not to stare at James' soaked appearance. They ordered their meals and sent the man away, before Lily leaned over the table. "Listen. Dumbledore owled me this morning and said he wanted me and you to go see him this afternoon. Did you see?"

"Huh?"

"He said he'd written to you; didn't you read it?"

James had a sudden flash of a pile of unopened letters on a lone kitchen chair. "Ah. No."

Lily looked at him, but didn't seem particularly annoyed. Perhaps it was the prospect of a large baked potato looming, or perhaps it was just hard to get mad at a soaking wet, handsome young man. Instead she simply shook her head and smiled quietly. "I said we'd meet him at the Hogs Head at three. Oh, and I also got a letter from your mother, who said to tell you to get in touch with her soon," she fixed him with a half steely, half amused look, "You really are useless aren't you?"

James grinned across the table, raising one eyebrow cheekily, "Is that really what you think?"

"I've yet to be proved wrong!" laughed the redhead, "Just write to your mum okay? She's got a cold or something."

Just at that moment the uptight waiter reappeared with a tray of food and the topic of conversation changed.

* * *

Three O' clock arrived and Dumbledore was waiting at the bar in the Hogs Head. James almost laughed at how ridiculous he looked, sitting tall and straight on the worn bar stool amongst the grubby regulars. His robes were a midnight blue and glittered in the light emitted by the few melting candles, while the man himself seemed deep in conversation with the barman.

James and Lily approached across the dusty pub and Dumbledore turned, beaming at them as if he was genuinely pleased to see them. "James and Lily! How nice to see you two again! Still going strong I see – I did wonder!"

Lily blushed scarlet and examined her shoes, while James grinned proudly and threw an arm round her shoulders. Lily shrugged it off with a glare, and an unpreturbed James shoved his hands in his pockets, fixing his former headmaster with a 'what-ya-gonna-do' type expression.

Dumbledore laughed at the couple, "Come on then, let's not just stand around."

They followed him to a door hidden in a shadowy corner and Lily and James shuffled inside as Dumbledore held it open for them. They found themselves in a dusty back room with a roaring fire and several leather seats. It took James a moment to realise that Remus, Peter and Sirius were grinning at them from next to the fire. James gaped at their smiling faces, "You found the letter then?"

"Yeah..."

"Great. Thanks." James sat down on the empty sofa, Lily next to him, and glanced round the room. There were several empty portraits hanging on the wall, and the single small window was thick with dust. The small amount of sunlight which found its way through illuminated the specks dancing in the air, highlighting the lines in Albus Dumbledore's face.

Dumbledore took a seat on the winged chair and took a second to look at them all. James felt slightly uncomfortable under his old headmasters probing stare and shifted on the cushions. The last time he'd properly spoken to the man it had been to explain why a blood-replenishing potion had exploded all over Severus Snape. He glanced at Sirius, who had also been there at the time, and their eyes met guiltily for a moment.

"I invited you all here today," said Dumbledore carefully, "to offer you an opportunity." He pressed his fingers together like a steeple and looked at them for a long moment, "An opportunity to join the Order of the Phoenix."

There was a moment's silence in the room which, almost inevitably, Sirius broke, "The whatie of the what?"

Dumbledore gave a fond chuckle, "The Order of the Phoenix Mister Black."

"Yeah…" Sirius glanced across at James, who shrugged, "That doesn't really help me."

Dumbledore smiled more and leaned forward in his chair, "The Order of the Phoenix is a group of talented witches and wizards, such as yourselves," they all smiled and straightened in their seats, "who fight against Tom Riddle and his band of Death Eaters."

Peter gave a small squeak from his place next to Remus. He cleared his throat with a short cough before trying again. "When you say fight, do you mean.. _fight_?"

Dumbledore nodded seriously, "Increasingly, yes. Though we also appose him in other ways – trying to slow his recruitment and keep information from him, for example."

James stared at him for a moment, before glancing across at Remus, who looked as confused as he felt. "Erm…Not to be rude or anything Professor but…"

"Come now James! I'm not your headmaster anymore – call me Albus."

James laughed, "I don't think so."

Sirius spoke up from the fireplace, which he was poking at thoughtfully with a spare log, "We could call you Granddad. Or Uncle D."

James looked over at him for a second, before nodding and looking enquiringly at Dumbledore. When he got no reply, he continued, "Not to be rude or anything, but isn't that the Aurors job?"

Dumbledore nodded seriously, "Yes James. But the Aurors are controlled by the ministry. I'm not denying they do a fantastic job – they are, after all, the best. But they are restricted, and in my opinion, are stopped from using their full potential." He tilted his head slightly towards James, "Do you understand?"

James nodded, he thought he did. He hadn't wanted to be told by Albus Dumbledore that Aurors were useless, but had to admit he had a point. James had seen the restrictions for himself all too often in his classes and lectures. Dumbledore smiled kindly at him, "We have Aurors in our ranks, James. Frank and Alice Longbottom for example, you know them I believe?"

James nodded thoughtfully. He vaguely knew these people from work – though they were often away from their desks on various assignments. But he was aware that the Longbottoms were two of the most valued members of the department, and was slightly in awe of them both.

And then there was Dumbledore. James _trusted_ Dumbledore. He always had, from the moment he'd first seen him at the sorting ceremony. And he had really respected him from around week later, when he and Sirius had first been called into his office for dropping a bucket of lake water onto Professor Slughorns head... Yes, James strongly believed that if anyone could see him, and the people he loved, through this looming war, then it would be Dumbledore.

His teacher seemed to be reading his thoughts, "Don't take this decision lightly. There is real danger involved here," he paused and a slightly worried look passed across his lined face, "I won't deny that there is a chance that some of us won't see this war through."

James looked across at Lily, who was chewing on her bottom lip nervously while examining her hands knotted in her lap. She seemed to sense his gaze and looked up into his face. Her eyes were wild and scared, but she nodded slightly at him, and James turned to the others, all of whom were regarding him with expressions of grim determination. James looked back for a moment, before turning back to Dumbledore.

"Well Uncle D, I guess we're in."


	6. The Order of the Pheonix

Chapter Six: The Order of the Phoenix

"Guys! Come _on_! It's nearly eleven!" shouted Lily. Her voice echoed for a moment in the motionless flat before James padded barefoot out of the kitchen. He was dressed in an old pair of pyjama bottoms and eating a piece of bread and jam. Lily gaped at him for a moment, before spluttering into life, "You're not even dressed! We're going to be late!"

"Fashionably late," James corrected her, stopping for a second to plant a kiss on her cheek. Lily gave a shout of annoyance and shoved him towards his room. "Woah! Steady on!" laughed James, but was cut off as Lily slammed the door in his face. "Get dressed!" she shouted through the wood, before wheeling round and marching towards the second bedroom. The door was still tightly shut and she pounded hard on it with her fist, "Sirius! Get moving!"

There was an inhuman roar from within and Lily sighed and leant against the wood, one hand tapping anxiously. "I know, I know. Just get your fat behind out of bed. Honestly, sometimes I wonder which one of you two I'm actually dating…"

"Oh it's definitely me." came James' voice as he sauntered out of his bedroom, one hand patting down his uncombed hair. "You and Sirius would never work."

"Yeah," said Sirius, "I'm a cheater." Lily started as the man appeared at the door, fully dressed and smiling perkily. She stared at them both for a minute, before shaking her head and moving towards the front door. She could feel James' eye following her appreciatively and turned to glare at him, only to receive a wink and a series of clicks in reply. Sirius gave a bark of laughter and the three exited the flat.

* * *

James was soon standing on a street corner about twenty minutes from his own house, staring blankly over the road with his arms crossed tightly. The day was fine; the sun gently beating down on the grey tarmac of London while the tourists and residents of the city swarmed around the various pubs and shops. James' own attention was focused rather longingly at 'The King's head', which was barely visible through a thin alleyway. Meanwhile, Lily was checking her reflection in a shop window and Sirius was rummaging in his pockets.

"Why do we need it anyway?" muttered Sirius, pulling a half-eaten chocolate bar from his trouser pocket.

"Because otherwise we can't get in," replied James, glaring at a couple of young men making their way, laughing, into the pub.

"Why not?"

"I dunno. There's some charm on it. The… filleous charm? Something like that. It means you can't find it unless you're told by the actual person."

"Fidelius," interrupted Lily, fluffing up her loose hair in the window. An old lady shuffling through a sale rail inside the shop jumped and stared back at her for a moment before plunging back into her shopping.

"Sorry?"

"Not Filleous. Fidelius," she said, turning towards the two boys and looking exasperated.

James shrugged, "Sure. Doesn't matter. I won't ever use it, right? I mean, not unless Sirius finally looses it and decides to finally cross the line into fully-fledged stalker."

"Not long now," agreed Sirius, finally producing a scrap of paper from his breast pocket and waving it triumphantly. "Got it! Okay…" he scanned the writing for a second before passing it to Lily, who did the same and handed it to James.

* * *

_**The Order of the Phoenix Headquarters is found at 23 Partridge Road, London.**_

_**-A. Dumbledore**_

* * *

James looked up at the street and gulped. A door seemed to have popped up between numbers 21 and 25, painted a bright red with a golden letterbox set into its centre. The rest of the house quickly followed, inflating quickly and pushing the two others out of the way. Pale curtains hung in the large windows, framing a vase of bright summer flowers. It looked like the kind of house in which a typical happy family would reside – not the headquarters of a secret society. He moved forward and took hold of the golden knocker, causing several sharp snaps to sound inside.

After a moment the door was opened slowly, and a face appeared in the crack. A woman with a squarish jaw peered out through bright brown eyes. She had dark blonde hair pulled back into a bun and when she pulled the door further open, revealed her short, sturdy frame. "Ah! Our new members!" she exclaimed, standing aside to let them in. She gave off a motherly vibe as she took all their coats and hung them on a bulging coat stand.

"I'm Marlene McKinnon. I know who you are of course – James, Sirius and Lily, right?" They nodded nervously and she smiled, "Well, I suppose you better come on through. We've only just started." And she bustled off, still talking, "This house belongs to the Longbottom's. Frank and Alice? I'm sure you've heard of them… anyway, we've been using for HQ for a while now. Easy to reach you see, and there's a lot of protection on here already, due to them working where they do. I hear you're training up to be an Auror, James?"

"Erm..."

"Very good! A worthwhile career. But we may well have to move on soon. Don't want to infringe on their privacy for too long, do we? At least that's what I said to Albus –"

James raised his eyebrows slightly at Sirius, who smirked, and they followed Marlene down the bright hall into the living room. It was decorated with sparkling white paint, which never would have survived the boys' flat, and the carpet and sofas were as red as the hundreds of flowers dotted around in various containers. The room was full of people sitting down and in the middle of what seemed to be a huge meeting. One man in a stupid hat (complete with earflaps) was standing up at one end, and seemed to be attempting to put his point across with a large amount of hand gestures.

As the group noticed the interruption, they fell silent and examined them with curious eyes. Marlene pushed past the three and began to point people out. "That's Elphias Doge," she gestured to the man in the hat, who smiled kindly at the nervous newcomers.

"And Dorcas Meadows." An older woman with dark eyes and hair nodded at them. "Dedalus Diggle -"

"Nice to meet you!" the man curled on the corner of the sofa squeaked and waved merrily, his violet hat wobbling.

"Frank and Alice Longbottom," continued Marlene, gesturing to a happy looking couple next to Diggle. James recognised the clean shaven man and his smiling, rounded wife from the office, and smiled back gratefully as Marlene continued. "And this is Alastor Moody – we call him Mad Eye." James could see why – the man's electric blue glass eye was whizzing between the three of them madly. He gave them a suspicious look and a small nod. Lily elbowed the staring boys sharply, and they looked away quickly as more people were pointed out.

"That's Gideon and Fabian Prewett, and Sturgis Podmore." Three Wizards sitting on comfortable dining chairs smiled and raised their goblets. "Emmeline Vance." A stately looking woman with a ruby shawl hugged tightly round her shoulders eyed them from next to the fireplace. "Benjy Fenwick." A handsome man with shoulder length brown hair grinned broadly.

"And you know Albus, Minerva and Hagrid and course." James relaxed slightly at the sight of the three familiar faces - and even more so as Remus and Peter's heads appeared from around Hagrid's large frame. They moved across the floor and took the places shown to them, near to the Longbottom's.

"Everyone, this is James Potter, Lily Evans and Sirius Black," announced Marlene, smiling happily around and then settling herself on a mismatched stool by the door. There was a chorus of muttered greetings, and then silence. People seemed reluctant to pick up where they had left off with the fresh blood sitting off to one side, drumming their fingers nervously in their laps. Elphias Doge was still standing at one end of the room, and adjusted his hat on top of his head. "Right. Well… as I was saying, the map needs to be delivered to the drop off point by three O' Clock tomorrow. We have it ready, it's been charmed – we just need a... erm… a delivery person if you will."

There was another heavy silence, when people glanced between their neighbours and waited for someone to offer their services. James was strongly reminded of school, when no' one knew the answer to a question and were praying they wouldn't get picked on. But, just as had happened in school, they didn't need to worry.

"I'll do it," said Sirius suddenly. Everyone turned to stare at him and Sirius looked back, unabashed, "I mean, if you want me to."

"Well yes!" said Elphias, obviously taken aback at Sirius' sudden involvement. "That's great!"

"Okay," nodded Sirius.

"Right! Well, I'll speak to you in a moment then." And Elphias sat promptly back down on his armchair. The cushion behind him made a puffing noise and his hat skidded to one side slightly. As he reached up to adjust it, McGonagall rose to her feet. "Well, now that's sorted, I'd like to have a quick run through last week's offensive…"

A couple of hours later, and the marauders had completely relaxed into the swing of the meeting. Some would argue they had relaxed a little _too_ much. Sirius was leaning on the two back legs of his chair, only occasionally falling back to his original position when Alice gave him a meaningful look. In the meantime, Remus was sitting slumped on the sofa with his arms crossed across his chest and his eyelids drooping. Every so often his head flopped onto James or Peter's shoulder, and they would allow him to doze for a second before shrugging it off. After all, it had been a full moon only a few nights ago…

James' attention was concentrated on Lily's hand enclosed in his own, and he started when people around him started to stand up and move around. He turned to Remus, who was looking around him with bleary eyes. "Are we done?"

"I guess," replied James. He stood up and followed a small group of people into the kitchen, which was small and cosy with terracotta tiles up the walls. Alice had just switched on the kettle and James watched her for a second. "Need any help?"

"No, I'm okay thanks James," smiled the woman, her eyes crinkling into two half moons. James nodded and turned around just in time to see Lily climbing the twisting staircase. He shot another quick glance Alice's way but she was focused on being a hostess, and he darted after his girlfriend.

When he reached the upstairs landing, Lily was just entering the bathroom. She froze at the sight of him and James leant casually against the banister. "Hi," he smiled. Lily raised an eyebrow but didn't reply as James moved closer and wrapped his arms round her. She smiled despite herself and her arms rested against his chest as he leaned in to kiss her gently. There was a second of silence, which was broken by the sound of footsteps on the staircase, and the two leapt apart. Lily groaned and grabbed James, dragging him round the corner of the hall. They peered round the wall and watched curiously as Professors McGonagall and Dumbledore made their way down the corridor and into the study at the end.

"What are they up to?" smirked James, and Lily groaned.

"You're disgusting."

"What? I wasn't saying anything!" he paused for a second, eyeing the closed door, before looking across at her. "Come on!"

"What? No! They'll catch us!"

"Ah but Lily. You may remember, I have some experience in this area," grinned James. He grabbed her hand and dragged her towards the door, his footsteps making almost no noise as they hit the heavy carpeting. Lily tried to protest, but James clapped a hand over her mouth and leaned close to the keyhole.

"Albus, you know I don't agree with this," came a murmured voice from beyond the door, and James recognised the familiar tone of Minerva McGonagall. There was a moment's pause, but no answer. Minerva spoke again. "I mean, they're only eighteen years old! They're _children_!"

Lily wrenched James' hand away and leaned in closer.

"They may be young Minerva. But I believe they're more than capable of looking after themselves."

"They're excellent wizards, I know. But Potter and Black… do you even remember them at school Albus? They bewitched desks to walk and raced them round the third floor!"

James sniggered and nodded proudly at Lily, who raised her eyebrows and caused the grin to vanish almost immediately. They put their heads together and strained to listen to the rest of the conversation, as the two teachers had dropped their voices considerably.

"I just don't think they're mature enough Albus. The kind of things members have seen… I heard they're using Inferi."

There was a heavy pause, fizzing with tension. And when Dumbledore finally spoke his voice was heavy with an untold emotion. "We have no evidence of that Minerva. Just rumours."

"Rumours are enough. You can't expose people so young to that…"

"I've made my decision Minerva." Dumbledore's voice was suddenly firm and in control as it cut across the woman's voice, along with the unmistakable sound of chair legs scraping on the floor.

Lily suddenly grabbed James' hand, dragged him away from the door and through a nearby doorway. James found himself inexplicably standing in a sparkling clean bathroom and watching Lily peer through the crack in the door. She quickly shut it as Professors McGonagall and Dumbledore walked past them and their footsteps rattled down the stairs. After a second their noise died away Lily let the breath she'd been holding in a long sigh of relief.

James laughed, "You haven't done this very often have you?"

Lily rolled her eyes, "What? Spy on teachers having a private conversation? No, not really."

"Aaw, poor Lils!" cooed James, reaching out to stroke her hair, "You really have had a deprived childhood…"

"Deprived as in normal?" she smiled, and James stuck his tongue out in retaliation. She laughed again. "Come on then. People are gonna think we've been making out."

James scoffed as he followed her out of the room. "What? In someone else's house? I _wish_…"

* * *

When James and Sirius let themselves in through the front door half an hour later, there was an old grey owl waiting for them on the windowsill. James recognised it almost immediately as his parents', and felt a stab of guilt for not contacting them in such a long time. He kept meaning to, but always got distracted just before he started - usually by Sirius and one of his crazy schemes. For example, last night they had had a milk drinking competition, where they took turns to drink bottles of milk and then run laps round the various rooms. The person to last longest without throwing up won. (A triumph currently belonging to James.)

In the meantime, James let the family owl in so that it settled lightly on his shoulder. He took the letter and slit it open, extracting the piece of parchment covered in his father's messy scrawl and sitting down to read as Sirius went to grab a drink.

After a second James stood up abruptly, startling the owl so it fluttered into the air with an indignant hoot. He stared at the letter for a moment before yelling for Sirius, who staggered through from the kitchen. "Yeah?"

"We've got to go."

"Erm… okay." Sirius picked up his coat from where it was thrown on the side. "Where?"

"Mum's gone into hospital." James was scrabbling around with his own coat and so didn't look at Sirius as he spoke. His fingers stumbled over the buttons as Sirius' face snapped towards him.

"_What_? Why?" Sirius gazed across at his best friend, who was pale and chewing anxiously on his bottom lip. When James didn't reply, Sirius dove for a mug decorated with bludgers on the mantelpiece. He grabbed a handful of floo powder from the chipped piece of crockery and shoved it at James. As he was grabbing his own fistful, he was aware of the fire exploding into violent emerald flames and James' voice sounding out underneath its dull roar.

"St Mungos Hospital!"

There was a rush of air and then Sirius was alone in the flat. Brain working furiously, he threw the floo powder into the fire and followed James. "St Mungos Hospital," he said, and saw a rush of colour as his flat was whisked away from him. Flashes of houses and offices rushed past before he arrived at the hospital reception, stumbling into an immaculate fireplace mysteriously free of ash and soot.

St Mungos hospital was relatively quiet, with only a few people sitting in the small seating area. A pile of magazines was gathering dust in a corner, and another fluttered slightly at the breeze from the fire. He stepped away to clear the grate, narrowly avoiding a man standing nearby, hunched over himself.

Sirius nodded at him politely and the man barked back angrily. Sirius' eyes widened as he backed away, and he spun round to see James hunched over the reception while a harassed looking receptionist scrabbled around beneath the desk. Half a second later he began to move, and Sirius followed him across to a clean white staircase…

James' wasn't quite sure what was happening as he pounded up the stairs. A few hours ago his mum had just had a cold, and now she was lying in a hospital bed. He spoke to Sirius, who was hot on his heels. "She's got… oh, I don't know the healer name for it, but we call it Phoenix's Fever."

"Phoenix's fever?"

James recognised Sirius' tone. It was an echo of how he'd felt when he'd read his dad's letter. The fever was quite well known due to a break out at the ministry a couple of years ago. In theory it should be easy to treat, but the initial symptoms were so like that of a common cold that by the time it was diagnosed it was too late. It was so named because of the incredible temperature the victims suffered from towards the end.

The two practically exploded into the second floor corridor, and began counting the rooms. James' mother was in a private room at the far end, and James skidded to a halt outside it. He took a deep breath and pushed it open.

Inside the room was decorated in fresh, clean colours. A vase of blue flowers sat on the nightstand next to the bed, along with a book and a glass of water. A chair had been moved from next to the window to the bed, and James' father was sitting on it, laughing at something his wife had just said. They both looked round as James and Sirius entered, and smiles cut across both their faces. "James!" grinned his dad, standing and pulling James to him in a hug. "Glad you finally read a letter!"

James smiled weakly up at his father. Although he was making jokes, James could see he was worried. A few more wrinkles had appeared between his thick brown eyebrows and his eyes were bloodshot. The two men pulled away and Lucas Potter turned to shake Sirius' hand warmly while James approached his mother's bedside.

"Hey mum," James leaned over and kissed her forehead. The he stepped back and Sirius moved forward, allowing James to examine her with some concern.

Eleanor Potter's tired skin was tinged with grey, made even paler by the halo of jet-black locks fanned on the pillow. Dark bags had grown under her blue eyes and they were ringed with fine lines. She seemed to have lost weight, though it was hard to tell from the way the covers were draped over her. She saw him looking and smiled weakly, "It looks worse than it is honey. Here, come tell me about your training. Did you do well in the assessment?"

James moved to the other side of the bed and begun to talk, but he wasn't really paying attention to his words. He had recognised the feeling bubbling in his stomach. It was fear. He was scared by the sight of his mother, pale and weak in a hospital bed. He cracked a joke and she laughed, but all the time his head felt like it was filled with fog. He couldn't help thinking, with a horrible voice echoing in the back of his head – what if she didn't get better?


	7. Overworked

Chapter Seven: Overworked

**September 1978**

On the second level of the ministry of magic there was a large classroom, where half a dozen young witches and wizards sat in a large semicircle. Professor Slumpolt was sitting to one side, legs extended in front of him and arms crossed across his broad chest, and Frank Longbottom was standing in front of the students.

"In a defensive situation, it's a lot different," he was saying, "the primary concern is to protect the target. This could concern citizens, or buildings, or even objects… James?"

James' head snapped up from where it had been sagging onto his chest. The young man, usually the top student and class clown, looked little more than a ghost sitting among his classmates. His face was pale and drawn, he had dark bags under his eyes, his shoulders were sloping and he looked like he was carrying a dead weight around with him. Frank and the rest of the class looked concernedly across at him, "Are you alright?"

"Yeah," confirmed James. The auror looked doubtful, but turned back to the blackboard. He scrawled an arrow down the diagram of a street before continuing. "These kinds of attacks are usually directed like so, with the Auror team moving towards the enemy through the…"

James gave a loud yawn and Frank sighed. He turned and looked across at the younger man, who had clamped a hand over his mouth guiltily. "James, when was the last time you slept?"

"Erm…" James lowered his hand and thought for a moment. Then he shrugged, his face and tone showing that he had been questioned about this too many times, "I dunno. I visit mum and then I come here! I don't have time to-" His rant was cut short by another massive yawn, and he visibly sagged in his chair. Frank shook his head.

"No. James, that's ridiculous. We said you could take a few days off when your mother was ill, but you still decided to come in. Now look at you! You're exhausted!"

"I'm fine!" insisted James.

"No, you need to go home. You can't concentrate when you're like this. Go on - You can catch up later." James showed some signs of arguing back, but Frank sent him a death glare. "Get some rest!"

After a moment of uncertain staring James sighed and nodded. Heaving himself to his feet, he nodded goodbye to his classmates and picked up his bag. It was straining under the weight of several textbooks and pieces of equipment, and James' arm shook as he held it. Throwing it over his shoulder, he made his way out of the door and began down the corridor towards the lift. He had just passed the heavy oak door which hid the Aurors cubicles from view when a voice echoed behind him.

"_James!" _

James turned to see Professor Slumpolt's large frame silhouetted in front of a torch. As he watched, the large man hurried quickly towards him and screeched to a halt. He looked at James for a moment before speaking. "I was meaning to tell you after class - You've been put on emergency response."

James blinked and lifted one hand to rub at his tired eyes, "Sorry sir?"

"Emergency response. I doubt it'll come to anything – you've only been here for a couple of months after all." Slumpolt shook his head slightly, "But the idea is that, what with things being as they are, we may need to call on you if there's a major attack."

"But…" They'd expect him to _fight_? James stared at Slumpolt for a second, and the teacher took this as confirmation that James was okay with the whole thing. "Very good!" he announced, clapping his hands together and smiling broadly. The scar on his cheek caved in and made a deep rivet down his face. "I'm sure nothing will come of it, but at least now you know!" And with a booming belly laugh he turned back to walk away.

James briefly considered calling him back and arguing, but in the end his own weariness overwhelmed him and he contented himself with a rude finger gesture at his teachers retreating back before turning towards the lift. As he waited for the doors to open he shook his head. They were using trainees as emergency response? Things must be getting bad…

James didn't go home straight away. Instead he made his way across to Diagon Alley and then down a small side street. The first shop here was a tired looking building, with its bricks stained black and its single window stuffed full of junk. Jars full of dried ingredients sat next to a globe showing all of the worlds continents joined together in a single slab, and a shabby cat sat hidden in the shadows. Above this was a simple battered sign.

_M. Cox – Spells, Enchantments and Potions_

Despite appearances, this shop was very well known, if rarely visited. It was owned by a man named Matthew Cox, who was one of the best known charms theorists in England. He worked here, hidden away from the rest of the world, and got most of his business through the mail. People said he didn't like to socialise and James had got the impression, on the few times that they had met, that Matthew Cox didn't think on quite the same level as everyone else. And this was the man who had become Lily's boss, and who was instructing her in the way of spell and potion invention.

James pushed open the door and a chime sounded from above him. Glancing upwards, he saw a small silver bell swinging gently. Cobwebs were shook free and floated to the floor at James' feet as it did so, and he shivered. He hated this place. There was something unearthly about the atmosphere, a whisper of secrets hidden in the towering shelves that made the small space into a kind of impenetrable maze.

"Erm… hello?" called James, the echo of his voice seeming almost blasphemous in the quiet sanctuary of the shop. He moved forward slightly, peering between the towering shelves in hope of catching a glimpse of Lily. "Hello?" he called again, and took a single step forward into the shadows of the shop.

"Yes?" said a quiet voice behind him.

James' heart leapt to his throat and he whirled around, one hand plunging for his wand, only to find himself face to face with Matthew Cox. The man had appeared completely silently from nowhere, and stood serenely behind James, who struggled to get his frantic heartbeat back under control.

Matthew Cox was in his late thirties and smartly dressed in a plain black robe that seemed strangely out of place in the tattered surroundings of his shop. He was a slight man with a handsome face and delicate, almost feminine features. His eyes were misted over and out of focus, staring unseeingly towards an unknown horizon. When he spoke his voice was laced with a melodic welsh accent. "Can I help you?"

"I… I was looking for Lily."

Cox nodded. "She's in the back. Follow me." As he moved away his robes whirled round his legs and gave the impression that he was hovering just above the floor. James shivered and followed the blind man as he moved with surprising agility down a dark gap between two shelves. Strange objects loomed down at him from their perches – a model of a human eye, a framed snakeskin and a decidedly eiree model of two children with screaming faces. Everything here would be analysed for any useful charms or properties before being sold on, and everything here gave James the creeps.

"Wait here," said Cox, and James was surprised to see that he had reached the back of the shop. Glancing around, he found he couldn't even see the door anymore, just yards of dark shelving and the black beams of the ceiling. Cox had disappeared through a back door leading to a laboratory of some kind, and James was surprised to see the cat from the window following at his heels. It noticed James staring and hissed, ears flat against its head and teeth bared as the door swung shut.

James stood where he was, shifting his weight anxiously from one foot to another as he waited for Lily or Cox to return. He transferred his attention to the locked cabinets high up on the back wall, and found his eye drawn to a delicate golden cup on a middle shelf. It had finely carved handles and what looked like a badger engraved on its thin surface. Something about this tiny trinket screamed magic and James was just standing on his tiptoes to get a better look when Lily's voice sounded out behind him.

"What are you doing here?"

James pulled his gaze away from the cup and turned to look at her. Lily had an old leather apron tied neatly round her waist and seemed to be covered in some kind of fine dust. It lay on her face and in her hair, giving the impression that she had aged by several decades since this morning. "I got sent home and thought I'd pop by," explained James,

Lily shook her head. "I told you not to go in!" James wondered, as he always did, how she couldn't be unnerved by the strange atmosphere in the shop, but didn't comment.

"Yeah, well…" James watched as Lily wiped her hands on the apron, "Hey, what's this?" He motioned towards the cup on the side and Lily moved to stand next to him, narrowing her eyes at the object. She was quiet for a moment before speaking in a deliberate, thoughtful voice.

"We're not sure. Matthew thinks it may have belonged to Helga Hufflepuff – you see the badger? But we're going to do some tests. There are some ancient protective charms on it that could be useful." She smiled and inclined her head slightly, "The funny thing is, they seem quite fresh. As in, they were cast recently. I don't know… it's really weird."

"Your whole job's weird."

"Thanks."

"Seriously. I didn't even realise you _could _make spells."

Lily laughed and impulsively kissed him briefly. "You're so sweet," she smiled. But then her face turned serious and she ran a finger over the bags beneath his eyes. "And you need to get some sleep."

He smirked and raised an eyebrow, "Are you offering to join me?"

"James…"

James shrugged. He had been attempting to ignore the fuzzy feeling in the back of his head and the ache in his bones, but Lily's words had brought them back in full force. "I can sleep at night. I was going to go to the hospital."

"You've been there every evening for the last fortnight!"

"Well I'm going again. She's my mum and -"

"And she doesn't want to see you working yourself into an early grave!" Lily sighed and pushed a lock of hair behind her ear. In the darkness of the shop it seemed to have turned a reddish brown, though her eyes still glowed as green as ever. "I'm worried about you James. You're making yourself ill."

"I'm fine!" insisted James for what seemed like the hundredth time.

"You're not." stated Lily. "You're dead on your feet. Please, just go home, have some food and a sleep." James scoffed and she moved closer to him, "Please James. For me."

Her boyfriend rolled his eyes. "Fine! But just because it's you."

"Thank you. I'll try and get off early tonight, okay?"

"Okay. See you later then." James gave her a goodbye kiss before stepping down between the shelves. He was aware of Lily watching him for a moment, before her footsteps and the sound of a closing door echoed throughout the shop. James kept moving with his eyes kept strictly on the floor and not at the unpleasant items surrounding him. He was grateful when he finally glimpsed the door with the sunlight playing on the street outside, but not entering through the uneven glass.

When he exited onto the street and found himself back in Diagon Alley, he could hardly believe how cheerful it was. Compared to the blackness of the shop, it was reminiscent of a tropical island. The colour and noise gave James immediate relief from the strange feeling that filled him in there and, as always, he wondered what had made him so uncomfortable. Nevertheless, he nipped into another shop to buy an issue of 'Quidditch' magazine before apparating back home…

* * *

Soon it was five O' Clock and a much refreshed James was sitting crossed legged on the sofa, immersed in a thick defence textbook. The curtains were partly open, revealing the thick cloud cover that had grown during the afternoon, seeming almost purple as it hung in the polluted London sky. The only sound that ran through the room was the crackle of the fire and the occasional scratch as James jotted something down on a piece of parchment, and put it aside to lie with the other sheets scattered around him.

"James?"

He looked up to see his father's head sitting in the fire. Maybe it was the flickering of the flames, or the strange light streaming through the window, but something seemed different in his dad's familiar face. His face seemed drawn and gaunt behind the beard and his eyes were unnaturally bright. James leaned in, concern showing in his face. "Dad? You okay?"

"James… it's your mother."


	8. Broken

Chapter Eight: Broken

Sirius came charging through the front door, grinning and clutching a paper bag.

"Hey Prongs! Check this out! I was allowed to take all the stuff that was out of date! Look, I…" he trailed off as the scene in the living room made itself known.

James was sitting on the sofa, a heavy textbook open in his lap. Around him various annotated pieces of parchment were scattered around, taking up the rest of the seats. But it was James' face which froze Sirius' innards. He was white as a sheet and his eyes were wide, reflecting the last few flickering flames in the grate.

"James?"

James started and looked up with a blank expression. For a moment he didn't recognise Sirius, and it was another second before he reacted to him. "Pads. Hey."

"Hey," Sirius set down the bag and made his way across the room, "What's wrong mate?"

"My…" James swallowed hard, "My mum died."

There was a horrible, horrible silence.

Sirius stared at him, all his thoughts skidding to a grinding halt. "What?" he gasped.

"Her condition degraded, and eventually she just couldn't hold on." The way James was talking frightened Sirius more than anything. He spoke like a healer, obviously just quoting back what he'd been told in a bland, lifeless voice. "They couldn't do anything."

James looked back at the dying fire. He felt numb and cold all over; he had a dull pounding behind his eyes. The sofa sagged slightly as Sirius sat next to him and a heavy silence hung in the air.

"James…" said Sirius finally. "Hey…" He reached out and gently touched James' shoulder, but he jerked away at his touch. James looked out at him through empty eyes for a second, before relaxing again. Sirius let his hand rest on James' arm, which was cold as ice. "You alright?"

"Yeah. I think… I think I'll just go to bed."

Heaving himself upward, James made his way to his bedroom, moving with his back bent and his feet dragging. He looked like a tired old man, not an eighteen year old boy, and Sirius watched him with concern as he moved away.

When the door closed behind him Sirius sat motionless for a second before scrambling off the sofa and towards the fireplace, grabbing some floopowder from the mug on the mantle. He threw it into the fire and the flames roared emerald and made a bid for freedom before Sirius plunged his head into the grate…

* * *

James stepped into his room and shut the door softly behind him. For a moment he didn't move, and then he sighed and pressed his forehead against the cool wood. He stood there for what seemed like eternity, eyes pressed shut and the uncomfortable sensation that his stomach was dropping into the floor.

Suddenly something fiery and painful ripped through his chest. It felt like he was going to be sick and his head spun frantically. Clenching his jaw, James leant more of his weight against the door, feeling something claw its way painfully up his throat and spit out from between his lips in a single angry, grating sob. After that he couldn't prevent the rest from spilling their way out of his chest as he pressed his face painfully into the hard, riveted wood.

When, an eternity later, he finally ran out of tears, he was surprised at how empty he felt. But at the same time he could feel emotions bubbling inside him, filling him to the brim. James moved wearily across to his bed and lay down. He was exhausted, with his head pounding painfully. He fell asleep almost instantly.

* * *

Back in the living room, Sirius had extracted himself from the fire and stood back. A minute later it gave a huge blast of hot air and the flames rose for the ceiling, glowing green. Lily stepped neatly out from the fire, her face pale and concerned. She dusted herself off and surveyed Sirius for a moment. Then she stepped forward and wrapped her arms round him. Sirius clung to her for a second and closed his eyes tight. Mrs Potter's death was slowly sinking in, and with it a terrible, hollow ache deep in his abdomen. After all, she had been the one to take him after he ran away from home, and she'd always seemed to be looking out for him. And now she was gone…

Lily pulled away and looked up into his face, examining him carefully. "Are you okay?"

Sirius shrugged, "You know."

Lily nodded and rubbed his arm comfortingly. She looked over his shoulder around the flat, her eyes finally zoning in on James' closed bedroom door. "How's James?"

"Not too great," Sirius admitted, and Lily nodded slightly. She was still looking at James' closed door, and started to walk towards it until Sirius grabbed hold of her hand. "Don't."

Lily turned around and looked questioningly at him, and Sirius let go. He brought up one hand to rub his jaw. "Just… leave him for a moment."

"I can't do that!

"Lily, listen. Don't get offended or anything but I've known James the longest, and he'll just want to be left alone for a while." He shook his head, glancing back at James' door, "He hates people having see him vulnerable. I mean, I've only seen him cry twice in seven years! And once was because of Quidditch."

Lily stared at Sirius for a moment and then nodded slowly. Reluctantly she stepped away from the door and looked around hopelessly. James' work was still strewn haphazardly around the sofa but she couldn't bring herself to pack it away – that would be like admitting something was wrong. Instead she did what her mother always did in these kinds of situations – she made a pot of tea.

"Thanks." Sirius accepted the steaming mug gratefully from where he was sitting on the floor. Lily settled herself down on the sofa and glanced once again at James' door. Sirius saw her looking and smiled sadly. "He's asleep. I looked in."

Lily nodded, strangely not feeling annoyed that he was allowed to check on James and she wasn't. Instead she pulled her feet up onto the sofa, curling them beneath herself cat-like. For what seemed like an age they sat in a companionably miserable silence, and then there was the sound of someone stopping on the landing.

"Hey!" came a familiar voice, and Lily and Sirius both turned to see Remus coming in through the front door. He peeled off his long brown coat – Lily noticed the hem was coming loose on the sleeve – and added it to the pile that was slowly growing by the door. He turned round and looked curiously at the two of them, curled up grimly with cups of tea. "What's going on?"

"James' mum died."

"…oh."

* * *

James woke with a start as someone came into his bedroom. He blinked rapidly as light exploded into him and a silhouette moved towards the bed. Lily settled down next to him, reaching out and brushing his fringe off his face with cool fingers as he peered up her. "Hey." she whispered. James looked dully up at her, his brain foggy with sleep. For a moment he didn't remember why he felt so drained, or why his face was streaked with tears.

Then he remembered.

James stared up at her for a second. It seemed wrong somehow that Lily, the person who made him the happiest he'd ever been, would be sitting right next while he fought back a fresh bout of tears. Lily looked tenderly down at him for a second, still gently brushing away the fine strands of hair stuck to his forehead. Without his glasses, James' face seemed soft and unfocused, with the shock of raven hair and a look in his deep hazel eyes made her breath catch in her throat. For a second he looked so beautifully sad it broke her heart. Forcing her emotions down, she smiled softly and nodded towards the nightstand. "I brought you some tea a while ago, but you were asleep. Do you want a fresh cup?"

James stared, anger rising from a painful well that had grown inside him. Did she really think he felt like _tea_ right now?

"Tea? You're offering me tea?"

The words came out as a bitter hiss that he immediately regretted. Lily started, her hand snapping away from him and folding in her lap. She swallowed and glanced down at them, at the way her fingers were knotted together. "Sorry. I… I just wanted to help."

"Well I don't need any help okay?" snapped James, rolling onto his other side and turning his back on her. Lily was quiet for a moment before she gave a sigh, and James heard her pick up the old mug on his bedside table. "Okay," she said quietly. "Just… shout if you need me or anything." There were soft footsteps and the sound of a door closing. James squeezed his eyes shut and pulled the duvet up over his head. A voice he'd heard at the first Order meeting bubbled to the top of his consciousness.

"_I mean, they're only eighteen years old! They're __children__!"_

Another bitter sob escaped him as he lay in the darkness, and was swiftly followed by another. McGonagall was right - he _was_ just a child. And he was scared.

In the living room Lily pressed her back against the wood of James' door, cradling the mug in her hands. The other two boys, Sirius with his face hidden in his hands, sat in silence around the room. Then, finally, the sound of a single heart-broken sob came softly from James' room.

Lily made a pained expression and lifted her chin so the back of her head hit the door with a thud. She bit her lip hard so as to prevent her own tears falling, and they all stood in silence for a moment while James' quiet sobs ripped painfully through them.

* * *

James hadn't wanted to have anything to do with the funeral.

He'd planned to spend all the days leading up for it in bed, only leaving its warm confines for the occasional bathroom trip or snack. However, after his father had shown the same stubborn streak and locked himself away in his study, James had been thrown into a world of quiche, small sausages and hard boiled eggs. It had actually proved itself a welcome distraction from the world, but as the day rolled around he couldn't help but wish he'd had more time to think about this. It was all happening so fast.

As he stood in the entrance hall of the Potter manor, tying his tie in the mirror and forcing himself not to think about what was about to happen.

"Master James sir?"

James jumped about a foot in the air and the black tie unravelled. He sighed angrily and looked down at his leg, where a small house elf was standing twitchily and pulling on his trousers. James raised an eyebrow in question, and the house elf jerked away. "Would Master James like Porter to put out the food?"

"Erm..." James began to retie his tie, "Yeah. That'd be great. But not right now okay? We should be back about three?"

"Yes sir."

James smiled gratefully. "Thanks Porter." The tiny elf gave a bow and scuttled out of the room, nearly tripping up Sirius, who was just coming through from the living room. He pressed himself into the doorframe as the creature pushed past, and then continued towards James with a smile. "You ready to go?"

"I guess." James swallowed hard and pulled anxiously on his dress robes, which had been pressed until they were flat as a board. Yet another lump seemed to be forming painfully in his stomach, weighing him down as he turned towards Sirius. "Where's my dad?"

"Living room."

James nodded and hurried towards the door Sirius had just exited from. The room he entered was both warmly familiar and hauntingly different. There was the worn, red armchair that had been there since before James was born. There was the shining black mantelpiece, covered with framed photos of the Potters – James as a gurgling baby, Lucas teaching a five year old James to fly, the three of them on holiday in Spain and James at seventeen, holding his head boy badge and beaming. His whole life mapped out as pictures in elegant wooden frames.

But the room was dark, not airy and light as it usually was. The lack of a crackling fire made the giant space seem dusty and unwelcoming – not feelings James usually associated with the place he grew up in. And, finally, so small and dark you could easily miss him, Lucas Potter sat hunched over a desk. His back was hunched and his head was buried in his arms, sleeping soundly. James gently shook his fathers shoulder, feeling the delicate rise and fall of his bones beneath his fingers. "Dad? Wake up – we've got to go."

Lucas looked up at his son through empty eyes, full of sleep and holding no hint of the twinkle they had once nurtured. He looked so exhausted, with his face pale and drawn like a living, breathing corpse. James felt a pang of protectiveness as, for the first time, he really appreciated the fact that his father was a human being. Not a super hero, as he had believed when he was four and being held on a broom, and not an uptight dictator, as he had felt when he was a teenager, but a tired old man.

A tired old man who had just lost the person he loved.

"Come on dad." James slipped a hand underneath his fathers elbow and helped him to his feet. His dad still towered a good few inches higher than James, but allowed himself to be led back into the entrance hall. As soon as they were through the door Sirius was at his dads other side, supporting him as they moved together out through the grand main doors.

The funeral was taking place in a small Wizarding graveyard on the edge of the village where the Potter house stood. What seemed like hundreds of chairs where set out across the green grass, a maze of uncomfortable wooden structures that reached all the way back to the gate. Mourners were slowly filling up the seats, wave upon wave of sadness trickling past the romantic ruins and settling in front of the table. A woman in the back was already sobbing violently into a spotless white handkerchief, and James couldn't help but envy her as he took his own seat in the front row. He wished he could cry like that. Maybe that would release the agonising cold that had overtaken him...

He turned to face the front, and his stomach gave an awful lurch. On the table at the front lay a bundle. A bundle that his father was staring at with wide, horrified eyes. Wrapped in clean white material was a limp frame, tall and slim with long limbs. They said it was his mother, but James wasn't sure. How could that…_ thing_… which lay so still and lifeless, be the same woman who had brought him his first dungbombs? The same woman who had cried with laughter when his father had found them a few weeks later, hidden and stinking in their unopened letters…

James reached out and grasped his fathers thin hand as a man at the front began to talk. He couldn't rip his eyes away from his mother's body. The entire service went by in a flash of meaningless words about a woman he didn't recognise. A woman he hadn't known.

"A dedicated woman, who was at the top of her field and…"

James simply sat there, his eyes itching, with his dads trembling hand encased in his own and Sirius' large palm placed comfortingly on his shoulder.

Then there was that terrible moment when the table and the white parcel placed on top of it exploded into flames. James couldn't look away, not even as the white and yellow light made his eyes sting and water. He stared into the burning flames, aching for a final glimpse of his mum. Of her wide, wonky grin. Or of her mane of tangled black hair… but it never came. The flames died down and all that was left was a graceful marble column. A heart-rending replacement for what they had lost.

James pressed his face into his father's shoulder, his whole body shaking as he broke down in front of what was now his mother's grave.

"_I mean, they're only eighteen years old! They're __children__!"_


	9. Healing

Chapter Nine: Healing

"_No, no sweetie." Eleanor leaned over her son and readjusted his arm. "Here, throw it straight. That's it."_

_It was autumn and Mother and Son were standing in the garden of the Potter Manor. The trees were an explosion of red and gold and the grass beneath their feet was a dull and dry brown. A young James allowed his mother to manipulate his throwing arm and twist his wrist. Then she pulled away, pushing her hair out of her eyes. "Okay. Throw."_

_James drew his arm back and then released it, sending the scarlet Frisbee flying across the garden. He laughed delightedly for a moment, jumping slightly on the spot. His mother joined in a second later. The laughter soon died however, as they watched the flat disk sail neatly through the open study window. There was an angered yell. Eleanor clapped a hand to her mouth, and James giggled nervously as Lucas Potter's head, clean shaven at this moment in time, popped up angrily from behind the curtain, brandishing the Frisbee. "Eleanor! You trying to knock me out?"_

_Behind her hand, Eleanor began to giggle uncontrollably, joining her son, who was squealing with glee. Her husband rolled his eyes and threw the Frisbee back. He vanished behind the curtain and the disk landed with a soft smack against the earth. The two were still laughing uncontrollably as Lucas appeared once again from behind the curtain, camera in hand. There was a snap, a flash of light, and he disappeared again as his wife shrieked in protest... _

James sighed and sniffed as he looked down at a large leather book. It was two weeks after the funeral, and he was slowly pulling himself back to something close to his old self. There were times though, like right now, when he was alone in the flat and his memory seemed to take him over completely, leaving him powerless.

On the page before him sat a photograph of him and his mother. Taken 10 years ago, it was stained brown with years of dust and sunlight. It showed them standing in the large manor garden in the middle of autumn, bundled up in coats and scarves. They were both laughing hard, identical in both the wide grins spread across their faces and the tangles of black hair ruffling in the wind. A Frisbee lay abandoned at their feet.

James sensed someone behind him and shut the photo album with a snap. He reached up and brushed a few drops of salty moisture from his face. At the same time someone sat down next to him and James didn't have to look to know it was Lily.

"Looking at photos?"

James nodded and reluctantly cracked open the album, revealing the two flushed faces that sat on the parchment. Lily pulled her hair back and leaned closer, smiling down at the younger James. "You were so _cute_!"

"Were?"

"Shut up!" Lily punched him gently on the arm, and he gave her a soft smile. Lily returned it and glanced back at the photo, running a long finger down the side of the page. Then she frowned slightly, "When did you get your glasses?"

"When I was ten," James peered down at the figures, examining his own face. So much younger, and so _innocent_, with no idea what it was to come. No idea how little time he had left with the merry woman next to him…

"I miss her," he whispered, and Lily's long arm snaked round him.

"I know," she replied, and James rested his head wearily on her shoulder as he continued to turn the brittle, yellowing pages.

* * *

The next day Sirius came bounding excitedly in the door. He was wearing his traditional jeans and white T-shirt, and he'd recently allowed his faultless hair to grow so it just grazed his collar – a look that had, if possible, increased his pulling power significantly. He glanced round the flat, obviously itching to talk to someone, and finally spotted Lily spread across the floor with a book. She glanced up, smiled, and then stuck her nose back into the printed pages. That is, until Sirius whipped the book out from under her.

"Hey!" she looked up at Sirius, who was examining it curiously.

"What's this? A book?"

She rolled her eyes, smiling despite herself, "What do you want Sirius?"

"I have a plan!"

"You do?" she asked warily.

"Yup!" Sirius threw the book back down and Lily caught it, slightly stunned. She carefully folded down the page she was on and shut the book with a gentle snap. Then she looked back up at Sirius, who was bouncing excitedly on the balls of his feet. "So… what's your plan?"

"It's gonna cheer James up! As well as being more than a little beneficial to me, obviously."

"Obviously." Lily sat up, her long red hair falling over her shoulder. "What is it then?"

"Hang on, let me put this stuff away," said Sirius, and Lily noticed the rucksack slung casually over his shoulder. He moved into his bedroom and Lily cracked open her book, hoping that Sirius would get or lost or something in the piles of mess that make up his bedroom.

A moment later James arrived home from his first day back at the office. To Lily's dismay, he was also sporting a spectacular black eye. James had barely stepped over a threshold when Lily was on him, book abandoned and staring in horror as she cradled his face and gaped at the black and blue swelling, which was taking up what seemed to be half on his face. "Oh my god!" she muttered, "What happened?"

"I kicked about twenty Death Eater's _arses_ is what happened!" smiled James, throwing down his bag with a crash and looking down at her. He looked tired, but had more colour in his cheeks than Lily had seen in a while.

Lily snatched her hands away. "_What_?"

"Well, okay they weren't _real_ Death Eaters..."

"But you're all bruised!"

"Huh?" James looked confused, reached up to prod at the spot Lily was staring at, and winced when he made contact with the black eye. "Ouch! What the…?"

Lily sighed and let go off him, rubbing her temple tiredly. "It's a black eye James."

"Oh… right!" James gently pressed his fingertips against the mass of colour thoughtfully. "I should go fix that. Hang on."

Lily watched him go, shaking her head in bemusement as he made his way towards the bathroom and the only mirror. As he neared it, Sirius emerged from his bedroom. "Hey James. Wow. That's gorgeous."

"Thanks," replied James, still slightly flushed with his success, and disappeared into the bathroom. Sirius waited until the door had shut behind him before scuttling across to Lily. He actually rubbed his hands together in glee as he grinned at her. "Can I show you my plan now?"

"What?"

"My 'how-to-cheer-James-up-in-one simple-step' plan!"

Lily stared blankly at him for a second before remembering what he was talking about. "Oh… go on then."

"Great!" He grabbed hold of her hand and dragged her out of the front door and down the staircase. They scrambled down the stairs with a large amount of excess noise and exploded out onto the street. Sirius let Lily go and she hastily began to pat down her hair, before looking up and freezing.

Sirius was gesturing grandly towards a huge motorbike so shiny it nearly blinded her. It was a mass of black paint, silver mechanics and leather seating, and there was something strange about it. Lily could tell that Sirius, or someone, had tinkered with it somehow, though she couldn't put her finger on what had changed. However, the bike just shouted 'Sirius' and, for some reason, fitted him perfectly. But still…

Lily gaped at Sirius. "What is that?" she hissed after a second. "Is this your," she twitched her fingers above her head in imaginary quote marks, "'brilliant plan' to cheer James up? How in gods name…"

"Sweet _Merlin_!" James had suddenly appeared behind Lily, changed out of his work robes and gawking at the bike. His wide eyes slowly travelled down the slick black body and onto Sirius leaning against it. "What…?"

"Yep!" Sirius grinned and patted the handlebar fondly. "I brought a bike... A _flying _bike!"

"A _flying_ bike?" squeaked Lily, but was drowned out by James' shout.

"_You're kidding me_!"

James shoved Lily out the way and practically ran towards the shining motorbike. He was soon stood next to Sirius and joining him in exclaiming over every shining part. Sirius pointed something out and James started, straightening up and looking confusedly down at him. A second later they were roaring with side-splitting laughter, doubling over and supporting themselves on the leather saddle. Lily rolled her eyes, but a small smile grew over her face.

It was the first time she had heard James laugh in two weeks.

* * *

Next week the Order of the Phoenix met in the back room of the Hogs head. James sat with a group of others around a large oval table, hair on end after a stomach-churning ride on Sirius' bike. There was a lack of chairs in the dingy room so he had Lily perched lightly on his knee, legs crossed and one foot jiggling nervously. James had his head resting sleepily on her shoulder. He would have thought that being part of a secret society would have been more fun than this - So far it seemed like he spent most of his time here listening to other people talk.

Suddenly, James' head snapped off his girlfriends shoulder and his hazel eyes narrowed for a second. He leant across and pointed out a detail on the floor plan spread in front of him. "What's this?"

"Looks like an Owlery."

"Well, couldn't you use that?" He glanced around the table, and then at Lily. "I mean, how many people lock their Owlery's? Otherwise the owls couldn't get in!"

"He has a point…"

Just then Marlene McKinnon came in through a back door, balancing a sliver tray on one hand. "Hello everyone!" she chirruped perkily, "I brought some biscuits! Here," she offered the tray to Peter, who happily helped himself, "I made them myself."

Peter made an approving noise through a mouthful of crumbs, and Marlene's bright eyes crinkled in a smile. She moved across to Sirius. "Sirius?"

"You know I'll have anything that's been touched by your lovely hands Marlene," grinned Sirius. Lily giggled and Marlene blushed slightly, while James nearly choked on his own saliva.

"You!" Marlene gave Sirius a playful swat on the shoulder, but let him help himself to four large biscuits, which he shoved into his mouth and chewed appreciatively. Marlene moved on and continued to offer her treats around.

"Do you not have _any_ shame?" asked James seriously as soon as she was out of earshot, and Sirius shrugged.

"If you've got it…" He took another bite from the chocolate filled biscuit and winked at Lily. James rolled his eyes.

"Well, what do you think?" came a familiar voice, and Sirius and James both spun round to face Benjy Flenwick. His handsome face was pleasant, though his eyebrows rose slightly as the duo glanced nervously at each other, then across at Remus, who shrugged. There was a moment of silence.

"Uh…Can you repeat the question please?" asked Sirius finally, and James smiled in what he hoped was a charming way. In the corner, Gideon and Fabian Prewett laughed.

Benjy sighed. "We've received word that the Death eaters may be planning an attack sometime soon. We were wondering whether you five would consider joining us on the defensive."

"What? Like," Sirius glanced at James, his eyes bright at the prospect, "Like fighting?"

"Yes," replied Benjy with his usual simplicity. James and Sirius both broke into large grins and nodded madly. The idea of actually fighting was more than they could have hoped for when they wished for excitement. The other three were also nodding, though with slightly less vigour.

Those three had always been the planners, and had left the physical work, whether it be fighting or pranking, to the pair. They didn't back down however, and spent the rest of the meeting discussing tactics with the others.

When the meeting drew to an end they were all in good spirits, looking forward to getting out of the dark and dusty room and into the sunny street. James and Lily had decided to go for a quick drink in the bar before leaving, and had bagged a double table by the window. The dust danced in front of them, illuminated by sunlight, as James put down two drinks and then took a chair opposite Lily.

"Remus! Pete! Come have a go on my bike!" called Sirius from the bar, grabbing the helmet that he didn't wear from where it sat on the side. The other two laughed and waved goodbye to James and Lily, before following him outside. There was a pause, and then the sound of laughter drifting in from the street. Lily took a sip of her drink and James glanced out the window.

He could see Sirius and his bike racing up and down the cobbled street with Peter standing on the back, hooting with laughter. As he watched Remus jogged after them and grabbed hold of Peter's coat, hoisting himself up by the collar. The remaining order members, who were standing casually around, chuckled as the bike turned sharply and then, without warning, rocketed into the clear summer sky and disappearing over the houses. James could hear the three's joyous whoops for a long time before they were whipped away by the breeze.

He settled back, smiling to himself, and caught Lily watching him fondly. "What?" he asked and she shook her head.

The two spent the next twenty minutes in light-hearted conversation, discussing everything from Sirius' bike to the pros and cons of various vegetables. Then they drained the last few drops from their glasses and left into the street. As they passed the window the barman saw James say something and Lily laugh, give him a playful shove into nearby bush, and run away while he flailed amongst the leaves.

* * *

"Uh… James?"

Back at the flat, Lily came out of the bathroom, brushing her hair until it shone scarlet. She shut the door softly behind her and looked across at him before throwing the brush on a nearby shelf and fluffing up her hair with her fingers. James blinked and straightened up slowly from where he was organising his notes from Auror training. "Yeah?"

"This weekend – would you come with me to visit my parents?"

James' whole body tensed and Lily winced. She knew it was too soon – she _knew _it. "Don't worry if you don't want to," she reprimanded hastily, "its fine. I can just call them…"

"No. Don't do that. I'll come," interrupted James, recovering quickly and turning back to his work, picking up the loose pieces of parchment. He slipped them into a folder as Lily stood in front of the closed door. James piled the folders up in a corner before turning back to her, hands shoved in his pockets and eyebrows slightly raised. "So…" His eyes ran up and down her lean frame, and she blushed underneath his pretty obvious examination.

Lily smiled flirtatiously and leant back against the door, her arms tucked behind her as James moved closer. He placed one hand against the wood above her and flashed her a wicked smile. "So Lily. How would you like to spend this fine Wednesday afternoon?"

Lily raised her eyebrow, her green eyes glinting, "Oh, I'm sure I could think of something…"

James' grin increased and he leant down towards her, their lips brushing together gently, and before either of them knew it they were pressed hard against the door, breathing heavily. Lily's hands were wrapped in James' mane of black, tangled hair and his hands were tracing the soft skin of her stomach.

That was when Sirius, Remus and Peter walked in, flushed from their ride through the skies and chatting cheerfully.

There was a moment of horrific silence as James and Lily prised themselves apart and turned their heads, very slowly, to stare at the three intruders.

Sirius had turned rather green. "Oh Merlin," he croaked. "Guys! That's what _bedrooms_ are for!"

"That and sleeping," pointed out Remus, who was also looking rather pale.

"… Neh," agreed a speechless Peter. There was another pause, in which Lily and James jumped apart. James made an attempt to flatten his hair, which was even more haywire than usual, and Lily tugged at her shirt. Remus, Peter and Sirius all averted their gaze, swallowing hard and obviously trying not to laugh at their friend's embarrassment.

"Well…" stuttered Lily after a second, "I…I should go." With her face glowing as red as her hair, and her lips still flushed and swollen, she hurried towards the door. She didn't avert her gaze from the floor as she pushed past the boys (Sirius jumped backwards as if James' germs were infectious) and vanished out into the corridor.

The others all stared at the door closing behind her before turning back to James, who wasn't looking too happy at being interrupted. "You arseholes," he said, and they smiled anxiously in apology.

There was another silence until, predictably, Sirius spoke, his eyebrows drawn down and an unusual expression on his face. "I feel sullied. And dirty."

James made a rude hand gesture and Sirius beamed back in reply. "Anyway… you won't guess what happened to us! That crazy old bat that's moved in downstairs had another go at us!" He was referring to the grumpy old woman who had just started renting out the flat two floors below. She was only about 5 foot in height but had the loudest voice James had ever heard. In the three days she had been there she had come pounding on James and Sirius' door more than a few times complaining about the noise. Needless to say, they weren't too fond of her, and longed for the days when the building was more or less deserted.

"Really!" James was still standing in his previous position, stony faced and cross armed.

Sirius didn't pick up on the sarcasm. "Yeah! I mean, what is wrong with her? She just goes on and on and on…"

"And _on _and _on_…" continued Peter.

"And _on_ and _on_…"

"I think he's got the idea guys," interrupted Remus, and then turned to James. "But seriously – _no Sirius_- she's completely mental! I mean, I was treading _normally_! She's obviously never actually _heard_ a herd of elephants or she wouldn't have compared…"

"Basically," Sirius cut across, "we've decided enough is enough. Show him Moony."

Remus reached into his bag and slowly pulled out a box, which was rattling slightly. Pausing for dramatic effect, he prised open the lid and pulled out what at first glance looked like a yellow pompom. That was, until a large pink tongue emerged from somewhere behind all the fuzz. James gave a 'ah' of comprehension. "A puffskein! I used to have one of these!"

Sirius smiled knowingly. "Then you'll know how much bloody mess they can make when pissed off…!"

James glanced sharply up at Sirius, then back at the puffskein, which was purring contentedly in Remus' hands. It had been a while since they'd pranked anyone… it was harder to find opportunities to do so without a steady supply of authority figures. He smirked and raised an eyebrow. "What were you thinking?"


	10. St Georges Street

Chapter Ten: St George's Street

**October 1978 **

As Lily entered the boys' flat, weighed down under the weight of several bulging shopping bags, she could hear Peter's voice echoing lazily in through the open door of the kitchen. "Moony, you got any sixes?"

Lily frowned as Remus' voice answered. "Go fish."

Peter gave an angry sigh as Lily put down her bags on the sofa. She blew her hair out of her eyes as Remus spoke up again. "Okay… Sirius! Have you –"

James' voice cut across him. "Hey, wait, is that my mayonnaise?"

"I'm hungry!" came another voice. "The only other thing in the fridge is lemon!"

"Then eat the lemon!" The sound of a scuffle as James' tried to retrieve the mayonnaise, "Or buy your own food!"

Lily entered the kitchen just in time to see James sit on Sirius' head and pluck a jar of mayonnaise, complete with spoon, from his grasp. Sirius protested from his position on the floor, his nose squashed against the tiles and James took a victory mouthful of mayo before turning back to the others, who looked unbothered by the whole thing. "Where were we?"

"Sirius' aces."

"Oh right." James clambered off his friend so he could talk. "Sirius, got any aces?"

Sirius mumbled something incomprehensible into the floor, and someone sighed. James rolled his eyes and grabbed Sirius' pile of cards from where it had been abandoned in the scuffle. "Dude! You have like, _everything_! Here Rem." he shoved a handful of cards into Remus' hands and then, finally, noticed Lily. "Oh. Hey!"

"Hey. What are you guys up to?"

"Playing cards."

Lily nodded and moved to sit crossed legged beside him. Peter was looking at Sirius, who was still on the floor. "I hope you didn't kill him."

"Nah - he'll be fine," replied James easily, stretching and then moving to kiss Lily on the cheek. She smiled and grabbed his wrist, pulling first herself and then James upwards. "Come see what I got."

She pulled him into the living room and towards the shopping, the other three trailing idly behind them and throwing themselves down onto various surfaces. Sirius, perched on the coffee table, picked up one of James' Quidditch magazines and began to leaf slowly through it.

"I brought you some clothes to wear this weekend," said Lily, reaching into a bag. "Here." She passed James a pair of bundle of material, and James unfolded it before holding the clothes up. There was a moment's heavy silence as he examined the bell-bottomed corduroy trousers.

"What. Are. These?"

"They're in fashion!" insisted Lily, not looking up from her shopping. "They'll look good on you! And look!" She held up a black shirt, "Isn't this cool?"

James was speechless for a second. Then he whirled around to face the other marauders, holding the trousers up against himself. "Look at these!" he exclaimed incredulously, "Is _this _what we're fighting to save?"

There was a series of chuckles and smiles, which died at the look on Lily's face. They all quickly stuck their noses back in the various magazines and newspapers as James turned back to Lily. "Sorry Lils, but I would rather jump off the school astronomy tower – twice – than wear these."

"I'll have them!" put in Sirius from the sofa, and Lily glanced at him. He shrugged, "What? They'd be a good conversation starter…"

"Yeah," agreed Peter, "If it was a conversation about how to look like a complete arse."

Sirius shook his head sadly, "Such _language_! It's a disgrace really," he added seriously to James, who tutted disappointedly, "I really expected better Peter."

"Have you guys been drinking?" asked Lily suspiciously, and they all turned to her, looking offended.

"No!"

"Not since this morning anyway," said Remus cheerfully. Lily had to glance at him to check he was joking, and he looked back gravely. She shook her head and went back to her conversation with James, slightly disturbed.

"So what _are _you going to wear then?"

"Erm…" James scanned the living room, and then spotted a pile of clothes in the corner. "This!" He snatched a blue shirt from the pile and pulled it on over his T-Shirt, buttoning it up hurriedly and then spinning to face her with arms outstretched. "Tada!"

Lily sighed, crossing her arms and transferring her weight to her back leg. "That's got tomato sauce on it."

James glanced down and, sure enough, there was a red splatter on the breast pocket. "Oh yeah…" he reached for his wand sticking out of his pocket, and vanished the stain before looking questioningly up at Lily, who stood back and examined him with her head on one side. Then she nodded reluctantly. "You'll do."

There was a polite round of applause from the three onlookers. Lily picked up a tie from where it was flung casually over the lampshade, and looped it over James' neck. He rolled his eyes as she tied it, but didn't protest. Then, when Lily stepped back and nodded decisively, he turned to his best friends. "She loves me you see," he informed the seriously, and Lily blushed.

"Shut up James," came her matter-of-fact reply, and she stepped into the kitchen to get herself a drink of water. "We need to leave soon," she called out to the chattering boys, and then... "What's this?" She had found a huge cake, half eaten, sitting on the side.

"Oh, you know that old woman who moved in downstairs? Well, she had," James glanced guiltily at the other three, "an _accident_. She tripped while… erm… running around. And she hurt her ankle."

"We've been doing some jobs for her," continued Sirius, "just until she gets well again."

Lily sounded surprised at this seemingly selfless act of charity. "And the cake?"

James looked smug, "Just a thank you present. From her to me."

"I still don't get why she gave it to you," complained Sirius after a second, "I mean- I emptied her rubbish for her! That's way more useful than collecting _washing_!"

"Ah," grinned James, straightening his tie, "But I collect washing very, very well."

"No you don't! You forgot about a million times!"

Peter laughed. "She was wearing that dressing gown for two days straight!"

James made a rude hand gesture as Lily reappeared from the kitchen, munching a piece of chocolate cake and making appreciative noises. She looked up at them all, a crumb having from her bottom lip. "But if you have this, why on earth were you two arguing over _mayonnaise_?"

"Because," said Sirius, "that cake's been sitting out for four days, and we currently have a disillusioned puffskein living with us. A bogey loving puffskein."

Lily looked dumbly at him for a moment, cheeks bulging with cake. Then she blanched and made a mad dash for the bathroom. James looked after her anxiously. "I knew we should have thrown it out…"

The sound of Lily washing her mouth out floated into the room. Sirius smiled and threw down the magazine. He stood up and stretched, his back cracking, before walking across to James and lazily clapping him on the shoulder. "What time are you leaving?"

"Now!" came Lily's shouted reply from the bathroom, and James smiled and raised his eyebrows at Sirius.

"Now, apparently."

Sirius nodded and Lily emerged, licking her lips and grimacing. She picked at her teeth, scanning the room in silence, before shooting back to look at James. "Maybe we should have picked up some wine?" she worried, but James just gave a huge wink.

"Way ahead of you!" With an elaborate gesture, he motioned to Sirius, who pranced into James' room and returned a second later clutching a large bunch of flowers and a bottle of expensive wine. Lily laughed and took the wine, scanning the label. "Wow… okay! Let's get going then!"

"Right." James grabbed a dress jacket from where it hung (on a hanger for once) on his door. "See you guys Sunday."

"Okay," said Sirius, accepting a kiss on the cheek from Lily, "Don't embarrass yourself too much."

"Me? Never!"

* * *

The couple arrived via taxi in St George's Street. It was situated on the edge of the suburbs, stuck somewhere between the city and the country. The houses here were made of red brick, with orange tiled roofs and gravel drives. The Evans' house, number seventeen, stood in the middle of the street, with a bright green lawn that had obviously been cut very recently, and neat flowerbed. James swallowed hard as he and Lily made their way to the blue front door and rung the doorbell.

"Try and behave yourself, okay James?" she hissed as they waited, reaching up to straighten his tie. James pushed her away with a frown.

"You know me. Perfect manners and whatever."

Lily raised her eyebrows and James looked offended. "Hey! That's how I got you to go out with me, didn't I?"

"Yes…" agreed Lily reluctantly, "But those manners of yours went seriously downhill after about the fourth date."

"But by then you were hooked, right?" James grinned, "I plan to do the same thing with your parents?"

She smirked. "Not _quite_ the same thing, I hope."

James stared at her for a second, a slightly twisted expression on his face. "You disgust me."

Just then the door opened and Lily's mother beamed down at them both. "Hellooo! We were beginning to wonder where you'd got to!"

Lily smiled and stepped inside, hugging her mother. "Sorry. James got confused with the money."

Mrs Evans laughed and James grinned apologetically. "It's true." He passed his jacket to Mrs Evans and she hung it up on the rack before accepting the flowers and wine with a 'oh' of delight. James noticed that there were already a few coats hanging behind his own – apparently some others had already arrived.

"Well," smiled Lily's mother, "It's very nice to see you again James." She was referring to the five minute conversation they had had on Platform 9 3/4 at the beginning of the summer. "I hope we'll get to know you a little better this time!"

"Yes, me too Mrs Evans" agreed James, and the woman smiled.

"Oh no now- call me Alison."

James nodded, slightly unsure how to reply to that, but was saved by Lily, who had been scanning the coats curiously. "Who else is here?"

"Oh, just your sister."

Lily hesitated. "Petunia's here?"

"Of course she is! And Vernon."

Mrs Evans made her way into the kitchen, and Lily whirled to face James. "Oh god…" she muttered, looking James up and down nervously, as if suddenly having second thoughts about this whole thing. He immediately picked up on it (like a horse) and his own stomach lurched slightly.

"What?" he hissed, "What is it?"

"My sister…" Lily looked quickly back at the kitchen, where murmured voices could be heard, then back at him. "Listen, I told you we don't get on, right?"

"Well yeah… but that's just normal sister stuff… isn't it?"

"Not really." Lily sighed and pushed her hair away from her eyes. "She… she hates magic."

"She hates –"

"And, therefore, she'll probably hate you," Lily looked anxiously at him again, and then sighed heavily. "I'm sorry James; I wouldn't have asked you if I'd known she'd be here." Lily looked back at the kitchen, and James grabbed her wrist.

"Okay. Don't be stupid. It'll be fine, honestly."

Lily laughed humourlessly "You don't know Petunia."

The dark haired man pulled a slightly insulted face. "She'll love me! Everyone loves me! I'm adorable!" James rolled his eyes, "Look, just trust me, okay?" He took her shoulders and turned her round, before pushing her into the kitchen. She stumbled forwards and James took a deep breath before following.

His first impression was that of the room itself – it was spookily tidy. The mugs hanging on their hooks did so in perfect colour coordination, and the surfaces sparkled in the light coming through the window. It gave the impression that this was how the room was all the time, not just when there were people over and, to be honest, spooked James a bit. At his place you were lucky if you could find a mug, let _alone_ the work surface.

There were four people sitting around the table. Lily's mother and father, both of whom James had already met, were sitting at either end. On one of the sides however, opposite two empty chairs, sat two other people. A woman, in her early twenties, was on the left, and a similarly aged man on the other side.

This was obviously Petunia, though she looked nothing like her sister. She had a cloud of thin blonde hair, whereas Lily's was thick and red, and her eyes, although green, were verging on the edge of brown. The only thing the two had in common, as far as James could see, was the slim frame and long neck, but Petunias somehow seemed more pronounced than Lily's own, which James always thought of as swan-like and elegant. This woman looked like a giraffe.

On her side was the man Alison had mentioned. Vernon. He must be a boyfriend. He seemed to be compensating for Petunias flaws, as he himself had no neck at all. He was actually just chin and shoulders. A thousand jokes flashed through James' head, but he bit them back, though it became slightly more difficult when he noticed the moustache.

"Hey." He treated them to his best smile, and offered a hand, "James Potter."

Petunia shot her mother a quick, slightly accusing look, but then took James' hand. She shook it and let go very quickly, muttering her name as she did so. Vernon then shook his hand, all the while fixing James with an angry stare. It was very like James imagined a male Hippogriff would glare at his rival, and he stared evenly back. "Vernon Dursley, Petunia's fiancé."

"Glad to meet you," lied James, and then let go, surreptitiously wiping his hand on his trousers. He pulled a seat out for Lily and waited until he was settled before taking his own chair and accepting a cup of tea from Mrs Evans.

"So." said Michael Evans, stirring his own tea with a gently clinking of china. "James, what are you doing now?"

James looked across at him, blowing across the surface of the hot liquid. "I'm in Auror training."

There was a general silence around the table, and James expanded. "It's kind of like… like… erm…" he glanced at Lily, who turned to her parents.

"It's like the police in a way. Fighting dark wizards and so on."

Mrs Evans looked concerned, her head snapping up. Petunia and Vernon were looking completely uninterested, though they had stopped stirring their tea momentarily. Lily's father glanced from James to Lily, his blonde hair ruffling. "I hope you don't see many of them at the moment."

James stared, and glanced over at Lily. What had she told them? Lily shook her head ever so slightly, and James smiled at her dad. "No, not many. But better safe than sorry, you know?"

The conversation restarted, and Lily caught James' eye, giving his hand a grateful squeeze under the table. James looked back at her for a second before Vernon spoke. "So, where do you live right now Potter?"

James smiled charmingly across at the man, but it was laced with a bitter undercurrent. From just the twenty minute conversation, James had decided that Vernon was way too far up his own backside for comfort. "Well… erm… Vernon, is it? I'm living in London at the moment. Renting a flat with a friend."

"A flat?" Vernon sniffed superiorly, "How… nice. I have a house in Surrey myself."

"Well, good luck with that," said James slyly. Vernon looked confused, and furrowed his brow in an attempt to work out what James meant. He wouldn't be able to of course, because James hadn't actually got a clue what he was talking about. Lily rolled her eyes at her boyfriend, but couldn't stop a small smile gracing her lips.

"Who are you renting with?" asked Alison curiously, and she gave Lily a suspicious look.

"Oh, just an old friend from school." James quickly answered, and Alison raised her eyebrows slightly, still not looking convinced. He looked hopelessly at Lily, who didn't look too bothered by her mother's ideas. She didn't comment, and Alison continued on. "Well, I'm afraid you'll have to sleep in the living room tonight James. Vernon has been sleeping in Petunia's room, and Petunia will need to share with Lily. I suppose we _could_ have Lily sleep on the sofa..."

"Oh, don't worry. That'll be fine," hastened James, earning himself an approving nod from Michael Evans. On the other side of the table, Petunia was looking at him with an expression close to disgust, her nose wrinkled delicately.

* * *

"So…" James looked up at Lily when they were setting up his bed later on, one eyebrow raised, "that Vernon. He's an interesting guy isn't he?"

"Don't be rude," said Lily offhandedly, though she seemed to be struggling to find something else to say. "I'm sure he's nice once you get to know him. And he's not… _horrible _looking."

James looked at her seriously, pausing in pulling on the pillowcase. "Lily. The man looks like a walrus."

Lily locked eyes with him for a moment, and then collapsed into giggles. James grinned at her as she struggled to get herself under control, shaking her head and turning back to the duvet. When she was done, she turned back to James and burst back into laughter.

James had grabbed the brush from the dustpan and brush on the side, and had stuck it between his nose and upper lip. To the casual eye it looked as if he had suddenly grown a handlebar moustache. He raised one eyebrow seriously as Lily buried her face in the duvet. After a second he too began to smile, and the brush hit the carpet as they both collapsed.

"What's so funny in here?" Alison had arrived in the room, holding a sheet and looking fondly at the young couple. Lily hiccupped and James smiled charmingly at her. "Nothing really Mrs Evans. We were just discussing an old teacher."

"Really?" Alison smiled, as if she knew James was lying, but didn't pursue it. Instead she placed the folded sheet neatly on the side and glanced at the clock. "We have dinner reservations at half eight, so if you two could be ready by then?"

"Definitely," grinned James, and Alison nodded before making her exit.

* * *

At the restaurant, James pulled out a seat for first Alison, then Lily. He moved to do the same for Petunia, but was butted out of the way by Vernon. Unnoticed by the others, the two men glared heatedly at each other before taking their seats. A waiter bustled over and James ordered himself some soup followed by a steak, handing over the black laminated menu and muttering his thanks.

Alison was chatting to her daughters about Petunia's upcoming wedding. They were in the middle of a conversation about flower arrangements, and James took a second to listen in. Petunia was correcting her mother in a slightly presumptuous voice on the colour of some random bloom James hadn't heard of, and Lily was playing absent-mindedly with a piece of bread. He took a moment to look at her, taking in the way her richly coloured hair flowed over her shoulders and the elegant curve of her jaw. She caught him staring and smiled softly, rolling her eyes in Petunia's direction. James grinned back and turned to the men in the group, feeling that he should make an effort to join in.

"Vernon. How's the business going?" asked Michael. A young waiter scuttled over and offered him the wine, and Michael swirled a bit around the bottom of the glass. He raised it to his face, took a deep inhale, and then a tiny sip. After a moment he nodded to the waiter, who began to pour it out into the separate glasses. As he did Lily's James couldn't help but notice him giving her a lingering look, though his girlfriend didn't notice. He also realised that Vernon had been giving a very long-winded answer to Mr Evans' question, finishing by taking a swig of the wine.

"What's your business?" James asked the large man, picking up his own wine.

"Drills."

"Drills? Those things that builders use to make holes?" Lily gave James a sharp look across the table, and he changed track quickly. "_Awesome!_"

Vernon looked stonily across at James, who grinned perkily back. What wouldn't he give to hex this man? James could just imagine him flailing around in the air, suspended by his ankle, or sporting purple hair and moustache…

Suddenly, there was a sharp pain in his ankle, and James glared at Lily, who had just kicked him. She'd recognised that mischievous, slightly nasty, expression on James' face – it had been just the same before he'd hexed some random student. Lily had been hoping she wouldn't see that face again, but at least now James had learned to control his strange fancies. He made an apologetic expression, and then looked surprised as he noticed the bowl of soup steaming gently in front of him.

It was getting late by the time they group returned to St George's Street, and it wasn't long after that they all bid each other goodnight and separated for their various beds. James had only just been dozing off, having finally found a comfortable position on the sofa, when there was a movement by the door.

'_Oh god,'_ thought James, '_I hope that's not Vernon coming to smother me…'_

He looked up blearily from the sofa, and saw Lily's familiar slim outline standing on the threshold, one hand up against the frame. "Are you awake?"

"No," replied James, and she made her way over to him, standing by the side of the sofa as he heaved himself into a sitting position. There was a moment when they looked at each other, faces just shadows in the dark, and then James reached out and pulled Lily onto the sofa, burying his face in her neck.

"No!" laughed Lily, pressing her hands to his chest and pulling away with difficulty, "They're just upstairs!"

"What do you take me for?" James feigned offence, before pulling her back down. Lily sighed and rested her head on James' shoulder. "James?"

"Yeah?"

"Can you do me a favour?"

"Sure. Whatever you want." He shifted himself so he was lying more comfortably, and Lily settled herself against him.

"Just try not to kill Vernon tomorrow, okay?"

James laughed, a rumble that vibrated underneath Lily's head. "Okay. But only because it's you."

"Thanks." They lay there for a while, listening to the traffic rolling past in the distance. Lily could hear James' heart beating beneath her cheek, strong and steady. He was playing with her hair, winding it through his fingers. Then he kissed her gently on the forehead. "I love you."

Lily smiled and lifted her head so that she could see his face. At such close range, and without his glasses, his eyes seemed brighter and bigger than ever. The feeling that stirred in her chest frightened her slightly in its intensity, and she covered it by kissing him gently. "I love you too."


	11. My Idea

Chapter Eleven: My idea

James sat at the Evans' table chewing slowly on a piece of bacon. Across the table from him, Vernon was glaring daggers and stabbing at his own food. A scummy bit of fried egg was stuck in his bushy moustache and wobbling grotesquely as he swallowed. James bit back a grin.

"More bacon James?" Lily's mother, Alison, allowed two more slices to slide onto his plate without waiting for his answer. She seemed to have taken a liking to her youngest daughter's choice of boyfriend, though James was sure that if he hadn't been on his best ever behaviour then it'd be a different story.

"Thanks Alison," he grinned, ploughing back into his food. The older woman chuckled.

"You seem to be getting through it pretty quickly anyway."

"It's been a while since I had such a good breakfast." This was true. Breakfast at the flat mainly consisted of scraping together whatever edible leftovers could be found from last night and forcing them down with a glass of water.

Alison smiled and turned to Vernon. "What about you Vernon? More egg?"

James snorted into his food, and Vernon looked suspiciously across at him. "No thank you Mrs Evans."

At that moment Lily came into the kitchen, yawning and still wearing her lilac pyjamas. "Morning everyone."

James smiled at her through his food, and she pulled a face. "Urgh. It's way too early for that kind of sight."

"What? My face? Thanks."

Alison laughed as Lily sat down and accepted her own breakfast. As she did so, James finished off his last piece of bacon and sat back with a sigh, hands on his abdomen. "Ugh. Seriously, do you guys eat like this everyday? 'Cos I might just have to move in."

The breakfast continued in a comfortable silence, broken only by the sound of chewing and cutlery on china. And some time later James and Lily were packing up their things, getting ready to go.

"Did you see Vernon had egg on his moustache?" crowed James, and Lily looked up at him.

"You're a bit harsh on him, you know that?"

"I've been nothing," he declared, "but sweetness to that man. It's not my fault that he sucks joy out of everything. He's like dementor on drugs." He threw his wash bag into the case and looked up into Lily's confused face. James rolled his eyes. "Dementors? They guard the prison? Azkaban?"

"They do?"

"Yep," James grinned up at her. "But of course, you knew that."

"Of course," said Lily. She looked up at James from folding her clothes, a small smile on her lips.

Just then Petunia came through the door, carrying a few books James supposed belonged to Lily. He also got the impression, from the way her lips were pressed tightly together, that she'd been listening to their conversation.

"These are yours," she said shortly, passing the books to her sister. She then cast James a suspicious look before vanishing out of the room.

James sighed. "I can already tell that she and I are going to be the best of friends..."

"Yeah," agreed Lily, somewhat sadly, "Sirius better watch his back."

* * *

"Well James, it's been lovely having you here," smiled Alison. James grinned charmingly back at her.

"The pleasure," he smiled, "was all mine." He then gave her an elaborate bow and a kiss on the back of the hand. Lily rolled her eyes at her blushing mother and flirtatious boyfriend, and turned to her father.

"Bye Dad, I'll see you at Christmas." She cast a look back at the closed kitchen door. "Say goodbye to Petunia."

"Will do," replied her father, pulling her into a deep hug before shaking James' hand firmly. "Look after Lily for me, alright James?"

"Of course - though she'll probably be looking after me!"

Suddenly, there was a bellow from inside the kitchen that was so loud it drowned out Michael Evans' belly laugh. It sounded like a cross between a rhino about to charge and a giant giving birth, and both Lily and her parents spun round to gawk at the closed door. James, on the other hand, grabbed Lily's wrist and smiled broadly at them all. "Well, it was nice to see you…"

Another yell from the depths of the house – this time a high-pitched shriek. James' grin brightened. "Best be off!"

He dragged his protesting girlfriend from her home, and the two of them climbed into the waiting taxi. James leaned forward to speak to the heavily bearded young driver. "Step on in Mike."

"My name's not-"

"I _said…_ step on it Mike."

That was when Vernon appeared at the door. He was scrabbling at his face, which seemed… odd somehow. Lily twisted in her seat as the taxi drew away, peering out of the back window. That was when she realised. Vernon Dursley seemed to be missing his nose.

And, from the way her mother and sister were staring at the back of his head, she had a pretty good idea where it was.

Lily turned and fixed James, who was humming casually under his breath while looking determinedly out the window, with a cold glare. James seemed to tense, and slowly turned round. He looked casually back for a second before giving a faint sigh. "What'd I do now?"

"Stop the car Mike."

"I'm not called –" protested the driver. Then he caught sight of Lily's furious green eyes in his wing mirror and gulped.

"Right you are Miss." And the taxi drew to a shuddering halt on the corner of St George's Street.

* * *

That afternoon James had bid a cheery goodbye to a still fuming Lily and was bouncing happily along a busy urban street. Sure, it had taken Lily fifteen of her valuable minutes (as she had put it) to return Vernon's face back to its previous arrangement, but there was something about seeing a grown man splutter with rage that was just… _uplifting_. James smiled to himself as he weaved in and out of the tired commuters and tourists alternatively, gaining him a few odd looks in the process. Then something made him jump.

"_James!"_

James whirled round to see Remus, Peter and Sirius on the other side of the road. Sirius had his hands clapped round his mouth and was shouting so loudly that the people passing were jumping and looking pained in equal amounts. James grinned across at them and shouted back. _"Yeah?"_

"_When did you get back?"_

"_About half an hour ago!"_

"_Awesome! Good time at the Evans'?"_

Remus, ever the voice of reason, decided it was his turn to bellow across the crowded London street. _"Why are we shouting at each other?"_

"_Because there's too many people to cross the road!" _yelled Sirius to Remus, who winced and clapped his hands over his ears.

"Pads! Dude! I'm right next to you!"

"Meh…"

Meanwhile, James scuttled across the road (ignoring the blaring horns of the red London buses) and fell into step beside them. "I met Lily's sister."

"Ah. I hear good things about her," said Sirius gravely.

"She looks like her horse."

"Right."

"And her fiancé. He's a walrus. Seriously, it's like a zoo in that house."

"Well I guess that explains why you felt so at home there, eh James?" grinned Sirius, before hooting with laughter. The others treated him to blank expressions as he calmed down and shook his head. "Man, I am on _fire_ today! Tell him Wormtail."

"Yes," Peter leaned over Sirius to look gravely at James. "Apparently he is on _fire_ today. Not that we've noticed…"

"And not literally either. Though it's getting more and more likely," added Remus from James' other side, glaring at Sirius, who shrugged.

"You two are lucky I recognise your slightly abusive sense of humour," he said haughtily, "Anyone else would have been insulted."

"Who's joking?"

"Anyway," cut in James. "As much as I enjoy slagging off Sirius… and I do, _believe me_. But where are you guys off to?"

"The pub, I'm guessing." Remus shrugged, "we didn't actually have a specific place in mind."

A woman carrying her body weight in bags attempted to get past the quartet and shoved them to opposite sides of the pavement. Blinking, they watched her lumber past, before joining up again. James gave Peter a friendly punch on the arm. "Well, enjoy that guys. I'm going back to the flat."

"You meeting Lily there?"

"Yep."

"Right…" Sirius glanced at Peter, who pulled a face. "Well, don't expect us home this evening then. Or ever, most likely."

"Yeah," agreed Peter, "I do plan to eat sometime today."

The three laughed while James rolled his eyes and wondered whether or not he should beat one of them up. Eventually, after seeing a helmeted policeman on the corner, he decided against it. "So… I'll see you guys tomorrow."

"Tomorrow! Oh how I await the day, my dear Prongs!" cried Sirius after James' retreating back, "Huzzah!" He gave an enthusiastic bow which nearly knocked a hassled looking businessman underneath a moving taxi. Ignoring the waves of abuse being shouted at him, and Sirius straightened up. "Missing you already!"

Remus groaned and grabbed hold of Sirius' collar, pulling him away from the violent looking crowd gathering.

"Thanks for that Prongs," he called, "We just got him to shut up."

James grinned and tipped an imaginary hat at his friends, "I do what I can." And with that he was swallowed up by the jostling crowd.

* * *

"So…" James took out his key and unlocked the door to the flat, "are you still mad at me?"

Lily sighed, "I should be…"

"But? You're not? I mean, let's be honest here. You don't like Vernon either."

Lily laughed, tucking her hair behind her ear.

"But look! I'm gonna make it up to you! Look," James pushed open the front door and gestured inside, "an empty flat…"

Lily looked suspicious, and took a step inside. "Is it actually empty? Or empty 'like it was the other day' empty?"

"Actually empty. The others are out at the pub." James gestured her inside. He quickly disappeared into the kitchen and the sound of glasses chinking together soon drifted through. Lily sighed and pulled off her long coat, laying it carefully on the only part of the sofa that seemed clean. It was crumpled and Lily reached down to straighten it. However, as her fingertips touched the dark material, something beneath it quivered, and her hand snapped backwards. Lily stared and then, ever so slowly, picked up a corner of the coat to peer beneath it. Something licked her wrist.

Lily gave an ear splitting scream – more from shock than anything – and threw the coat on the floor. Before it had even settled properly she was in the kitchen, panting and pointing back at the living room. "James… James! It… something licked me!"

"What?" James put down the bottle and picked up two glasses, frowning. Lily took a deep, claming breath.

"Something licked me, James."

"Oh, don't mind that," said James, handing her a glass of wine. "It's just Albus." He noticed her questioning look. "The puffskein"

Lily stared, fighting between amused and disgusted. "You named the puffskein Albus? After our headmaster?"

"Yep."

"Well… it was the obvious choice," said Lily sarcastically. Then she shook her head, looking around her nervously. "Couldn't you make him visible?"

"We would, but we can't catch him…" He shook his head, "He's a smart little bugger… just like the real Albus."

Lily didn't know why he suddenly had an Irish accent.

"Anyway," James dropped the voice and put down his glass. "Come with me. I want to talk to you."

Lily put down her own glass on the side, the dark red liquid glinting, and followed James into the living room. She was more than a bit surprised when he opened the window, climbed onto the sill, and pulled himself up onto the roof. He had completely disappeared from view, being replaced with a stiff, cold breeze from outside, when she recovered herself and glanced upwards. Was it her imagination, or could she hear him scrabbling around above her?

Lily swallowed and approached the window, where the curtains were blowing back into the flat like a pair of blue ghosts. "James?" She said, "Why are we…"

She peered out of the window, her gaze automatically zoning into the pavement so far below.

"James? I don't think…"

James' hand appeared, dangling in front of her. She ignored it for a second, determined to get up herself. But after a second the fingers wiggled, almost teasingly. Lily glared at the hand but grabbed hold of it. For a second she examined the way their fingers knotted automatically together, at the contrast between his callused, knobbly knuckles and her own, so much paler and smoother. Then, without warning, he pulled hard, causing her shoulder to almost pop out of its socket.

"James!"

"Sorry!"

Lily sighed and, ever so carefully, climbed out of the window. She braced herself on the thick windowsill, still clutching onto James' hand with all her strength. James pulled again and she pushed upwards with her legs, so she was balanced precariously feet above the pavement.

"Oh god…" she muttered, before turning and hauling herself upwards onto the roof. As she flailed helplessly with her stomach on the cold tiles and legs dangling in mid air, she was suddenly very grateful she's decided against wearing a skirt.

"Hang on!" called James, sliding down next to her and grabbing her under the arms. She shouted out in pain as he attempted to drag her fully onto the roof, and he stopped for a second. Lily, still half on, half off the roof, huffed angrily.

"Well this is romantic," she muttered, and James grinned sheepishly at her.

"Sorry. Come on, just brace your arms." He watched Lily struggle for a minute, "You know, if you played Quidditch we wouldn't be having this problem."

Seconds later and Lily was crouched on the tiles, giving James an angry look. "You were saying?"

James leaned over and kissed her gently. "Nothing important." He settled back on the roof, patting the space beside him until Lily slided into it. "Unlike now. Now I have something to say that is very important. Well, not important as in 'the sun's going to explode' important but important in the same way that 'I think I hate –"

He was nervous. Lily could tell from the way he was babbling. Not that James didn't babble normally, but he was doing so a lot more at the moment. She placed a hand on his, and he turned to look at her.

"James. Shut up and say whatever you're trying to say."

"Oh… sorry. Okay. Well, you know I love you? And you love me, right?"

"Yes, of course… Wait," Lily's eyes widened, "You're not asking me to marry you are you?"

James' eyes widened in terror. "No!" He stared at her. "You don't want me to, do you?"

"No! Well, not right now…" Lily trailed off, embarrassed.

"Oh thank Merlin. 'Cos I don't have a ring or anything." Lily couldn't understand how he could be so brazen about something like this. He shook his head, black hair flopping into his face. "Anyway, I had an idea."

Lily leant back, relaxing onto her elbows. "Which was?"

"My idea," said James, biting his lip slightly anxiously, "is that you, and me, obviously, or it wouldn't work. You could try to on your own but –"

"James. You're doing it again."

"Oh… sorry. Well –" he sat up to look properly. "How about if we move in together?"

Lily was quiet for one long moment, her green eyes staring into the London skyline. The sun was beginning to go down and there was a strip of orange and red across the horizon. Buildings were silhouetted against it, painted a deep black while a single plane powered along behind them, leaving a white trail across the sky.

Lily bit her lip, eyebrows pulled down. "Move in together?" James didn't answer and Lily turned to him. "I mean - are you sure?"

"Definitely."

Lily nodded slightly, examining the tiles and picking at the moss growing between the gaps. Then, what seemed like a lifetime later, she looked back up at him. "Okay. Why not?"


	12. Behind the Badge

Chapter Twelve: Behind the badge

The Potter family home stood on the top of a great lawn, looming tall and proud into the periwinkle blue sky. Graceful white columns guarded the elegant front door and, as James pulled out his wand and muttered a password, a black bird took flight from a nearby chestnut tree. The house which had once rang with the sound of laughter and happy moments now seemed hollow and abandoned. The large manor now a shadow of what it had been.

"Dad?" James closed the heavy oak door behind him as he entered the echoing entrance hall. The floor was dirty, as if someone had trodden through with yesterdays mud on their shoes. "You here?"

Nothing. James turned around, looking over all the dusty portraits hanging on the wall.

"Hullo James," said one old man sleepily. James smiled back.

"Hey Gramps. You seen Dad around?"

"Not today. He hasn't left the house." James' grandfather settled himself more comfortably in his heavy gold frame while James bit his lip and looked around thoughtfully.

"Okay, thanks," he said finally, and then raised his voice, "Porter!"

There was a pause, and then a sharp crack announced the house elf's appearance at James' side. The aging elf looked happily up at him through his slightly crossed eyes, but didn't speak a word. James' mother's voice echoed in his ears as he looked down at the creature.

"_That elf! He has a heart of gold, bless him, but a brain of complete mush!"_

"Hey Porter," greeted James, shrugging off his black cloak. The weather was changing slowly towards that of autumn, and there was a chill in the air despite the bright sunshine bursting through the clouds. "Do you know where Dad is?"

"Mister Potter? He's in the study, young master! Come, come with Porter!"

"I know where…" But the elf had already seized James' hand in his own tiny paw and was dragging him down one of the many corridors. James was being pulled along too fast to return the greetings of his family, and as he was carried swiftly past he could hear their wheezy chuckles from their positions high on the panelled wall.

Porter almost stumbled on his snowy pillowcase when they stopped outside James' father's study, and he smiled broadly up at him.

"Here we are young master! Here…" He gestured towards the familiar door, and James nodded with feigned gratitude.

"Thanks a lot. I'll just… go inside," he finished lamely, pushing open the door and smiling kindly down at the servant, who nodded and hurried away after a quick bow. Shaking his head, James entered the study.

The room was old and had an air of weariness about it, and it was red. James had always remembered the study, from the few times he'd been allowed inside, as just that. Red.

The wallpaper, with its regular Victorian print, was a dark red, and the floorboards and furniture were so rich a brown that they too seemed to have taken on the colour. The window was open, with a biting breeze entering through the space, and the curtains were held back by golden tassels. Next to this window sat his father, small in a large winged armchair and a heavy book open in front of him. He looked up with no small surprise as the door opened, yet relaxed into a warm smile when he recognised his son.

"James!" He pulled himself out of the chair, and for a second he looked his true age, but a moment later he was standing tall and strong once again. "And to what do I owe this pleasure?"

"Just coming to see how you're doing," answered James vaguely, looking around the study. A plate was sitting on the desk, a piece of meat and some potatoes waiting upon it. It looked cold and was starting to congeal - like it had been there for a while. Lucas noticed his son looking and cleared his throat awkwardly. James looked away.

"So... how you doing?"

"Oh, not too bad," his father replied, one hand coming up to ruffle his hair. Then he noticed James doing the same and his hand snapped to his side with a chuckle. The two men looked at each other for a second, each taking in the others appearance.

James examined his dad. He was, as he had always been, built like a bear, towering towards the ceiling with broad shoulders and long limbs. His face was covered by its brown beard, and his eyes were a rich hazel. It wasn't hard to imagine him and Professor Slumpolt being friends at Hogwarts – they were alarmingly similar.

Some things, however, had changed in the last month. He was paler than before, and seemed permanently tired. James suspected he hadn't been eating.

Finally the silence was broken.

"Come on," said James, moving to the door and holding it open. Lucas looked confused.

"Where?"

"To mine. We've got a pizza in the fridge." He grinned lopsidedly. "Of course, we will also have to hang out with Sirius, but we must take the bad along with the good."

Lucas chuckled, but shook his head. "I think I'll pass."

James rolled his eyes and let go of the door, allowing it to swing shut in the breeze from the open window. "Dad, come on! You're miserable here! It'll do you some good to get out." He turned decisively back to the door, pulling it open once again.

There was a heavy pause, and James looked round to see his Dad looking at him. He was smiling, but it was underlined with a bitter sadness that turned James' stomach. "You sound just like your mother," stated his Father. Then he sighed. "James, I'm sorry. But I don't want to go round yours and be the grumpy old man in the corner while you and your friends have fun."

"You won't be…"

"I will. I'm not up to joking around at the moment." Lucas smiled sadly at his son. The way James was standing, tall and defiant with his chin up, was almost an exact mirror to his wife. And though he'd never admit it, even to himself, that was one of the reasons he was reluctant to go out with James.

"Sorry kid," he added.

James was quiet for a second. "Fine," he said, casting his eyes downward. "That's fine." He turned to go, reaching and turning the handle. Then, once again, he paused, looking over his shoulder at his father.

"I meant to tell you – me and Lily are moving in together."

Lucas smiled. For real this time. "Congratulations."

James nodded. Then the door was swinging shut behind him with a final click.

Once he was gone, Lucas let out the breath he'd been holding through his nose, his head sagging into his chest. Then he sat back down in his chair and buried his head in his hands while the sound of the front door slamming echoed through the house.

* * *

James apparated into the flat in a thoroughly bad mood. As usual, the others were spread around the living room. Kind of. Remus and Sirius were standing in front of the fireplace, on which a few empty beer cans were sitting, and Peter was sitting on the sofa in front of them. He had a pile of papers on his lap.

James took off his cloak and threw it towards the three hooks Lily had insisted they put up. It missed completely and joined the others in the heap on the floor.

James turned to the group. "Don't you guys have jobs to go to?"

"It's Saturday," pointed out Remus.

James shook his head, unfazed. "I need a beer," he announced.

"Well, what a coincidence!" came Peter's chirpy reply. "We're having a spelling competition for the last one right this second!"

"A spelling competition?"

"Not the cool type. The words type." Sirius bounced slightly on the balls of his feet, clapping his hands together in barely contained excitement. "You in?"

"Sure." James clambered over the sofa and stood next to Remus. Within seconds the two of them were stretching away while Sirius looked on blankly.

"Okay," said Peter finally, looking up from his list. He noticed James and Remus and frowned. "What are you doing?"

"Warming up."

"Right…" said Peter slowly. "Okay. James. Spell 'communication'."

"C-o-m-m-u-n-i-c-a-t-i-o-n."

"Yep." Peter turned as James punched the air in triumph and began a little victory dance. "Remus. Protagonist."

As Remus reeled off the letters, James smiled to himself, his dance slowing to a halt. He would miss this. He hadn't told anyone about him and Lily yet, and, if he was honest, he was dreading it. His memory couldn't help but skip back to when he and Lily had first started dating – Sirius hadn't taken it well. How much worse would this be?

"Sirius." Peter's voice cut through his thoughts. "Spell 'there'."

"T-h…" Sirius faltered and stammered to a halt, staring at Peter. "Uh… Can I have it in a sentence please?"

"Sure," Peter reached for a piece of parchment which he had just scribbled. He glanced down at it and his mouth twitched before he cleared his throat and read the words aloud. "They're over there, with their new broom."

The other two burst into peals of laughter and Sirius glared, hands on hips. "I," he declared, "am picking up on a slight bias in this competition."

"Would I do that?"

Sirius' expression said it all. Then he sighed. "Fine! Erm… t-h-e… r-e?"

"Nope. Sorry! We were looking for their! Spelt 't-h-e-i-r!"

There was a cheer from the others, and Sirius looked irritated for a minute. Then he glanced at the floor.

"I've just been conned out of a beer," he informed what looked like a shimmering mass in the air, but was really Albus. "My best friends, mate, they've conned me!"

"Oh calm down," grinned James, clapping Sirius on the shoulder. "And that's one of the old cans." For Sirius had just grabbed one of the cans on the mantelpiece and helped himself to a massive swig. There was a moment when there was silence, bar a few sniggers from the others, and then Sirius swallowed his warm beer. He was silent for a second while he looked at the can, and then up again at James, his expression grave. "Must you embarrass me?"

He threw the can carelessly over his shoulder, going to reach for another, and then winced as there was a crash and tinkle of broken glass. Sirius grinned awkwardly at the others, "That was that vase wasn't it?"

James nodded and rolled his eyes with a groan. "Lily gave us that…. You'll have to tell her."

"What?!" Sirius spun round to look with panic at the glass scattered across the floor. He knelt beside it and picked up two big shards, as if hoping he could stick it back together. After staring at it for a moment and realising it was hopeless, he stood back up and pointed accusingly at James. Peter was very nearly speared on the end of the shard and had to dive out the way. Sirius, of course, didn't notice. He was too busy yelling at James. "You tell her! Make her forgive me!"

"No! You broke it!"

"But that's not fair!" said Sirius shrilly, "All you have to do is snog her and she'll be okay. If I snog her she'll probably just get madder."

James opened his mouth to argue, but suddenly there was a whoosh from the fireplace and a shrill scream from Remus, who had been standing a bit too close. A man stepped confidently out of the grate, glancing innocently at Remus cowering against the wall, looking shocked and a bit singed.

"Are you okay?" asked Frank Longbottom, and Remus nodded dumbly. Frank's gaze lingered on him a second more, before he looked across at James and Sirius. They were both chuckling at Remus' predicament, though their laughter died at the expression on the Auror's face.

"James. We need you at the office. Now."

"Wha..."

"Questions later. Just get down there. Meet the others in the Atrium."

James opened his mouth to protest, but his eyes met Sirius' and he decided to keep quiet. Instead he shrugged and made his way to the fireplace. Frank stepped aside and James helped himself to floopowder from the beater mug. He threw it into the embers and, as the fire exploded in front of him, glanced back at the flat. Remus, Peter and Sirius were all looking confused and concerned, while Franks face was crumpled with grim determination.

Still completely in the dark, James checked his wand was still safely in his pocket and stepped into the green flames.

"The Ministry of Magic!"

James half stepped, half fell out of the fireplace and gaped at the scene unfolding in front of him. A dozen or so Aurors were standing around, dressed in the traditional Auror uniform – simple dark red robes verging on black and, underneath, a leather belt to hold their wands and a simple shielding charm cast upon it. A few of the senior Aurors had extra equipment strapped to their belts, and had weary but determined expressions etched on their scarred faces. The whole room, though usually a lot more crowded, had an atmosphere of tension.

"Clear the way there Potter!" came a sharp voice, and James stepped sharply aside as another member of his class fell out of the fireplace. "Well? Don't just stand there boy! Get over here!"

Swallowing, James scrambled through the crowd towards the man. With a jolt he recognised the gnarled face and false eye. "Mad-eye?"

"Yep." He replied gruffly, "Now take these," James found a robe and belt shoved into his hands, "and report to alpha B – there."

Confused, but beginning to get an idea of what was going on, James hurried over to the small group pointed out to him and looped to belt over his jeans, taking out his wand and slipping it into the holder on his hip. He then began to shrug on his robe over his clothes, while another Auror joined them and began to do the same.

The man in charge was a senior Auror James hadn't spoken to before, short but powerful looking with dirty blonde hair and a cold face.

"All here? Okay. Death Eater attack in central Huntingdon. We're following the 5B formation here – Crow, you'll be in first attack and the rest of you fall behind. I'll bring up the rear." he glanced over his shoulder at the other groups, some of whom were standing around and some of whom were having similar briefings. "We'll be off as soon as Gamma gets back – they're being recalled. Apparate to the sides of the street – I don't need anyone caught in the crossfire."

There was a loud series of cracks and, without warning, a team of Aurors were standing in the hall, bruised and dirty. Quite a few were bleeding, and some were nursing various limbs. James stared as Ministry workers crowded around them. Alice Longbottom was in their midst, helping a junior Auror with what looked like a sprained ankle to one side.

"Okay – that's our cue," ordered the blonde Auror, and he flashed them an unexpected smile. "Good luck people – let's get 'em."

James took a deep breath, reaching down to grab the handle of his wand where it rested in its harness. Then he spun round and felt the familiar squeezing sensation that came with apparition. It was quickly replaced, however, with the feeling of cold air wrapping round him, and the sounds of shouting.

James felt his whole body run cold with fear as he opened his eyes and looked around. The street was bathed with the blue light of evening, and the muggle streetlights were glowing red as they began to flicker on. Underneath their metal heads a battle was raging.

Men in black robes were attacking men in red. White masks flashed before James' eyes, mixed in with the set jaws and cold eyes of the Aurors. Spells were flying everywhere, some barely visible in the dying light and others burning their trails into James' eyelids – green and red paths leading to pain and death. He could hear shouting and screaming, and the smell of burning filled his nostrils.

"Fall behind people! Behind!" came the order, and James scrambled frantically into position. The death eaters were beginning to notice the new arrivals, and what seemed like hundreds of terrible, skull-like faces turned to them. They started to move.

Automatically, James grabbed his wand and raised it before him, eyes darting between the Death Eaters. Then, somewhere behind him, there was a yell. Someone was fighting. He could hear the spells being screamed and dodged. Something hit the ground hard, but he couldn't turn to see what it was. Praying it was only a sign or fence, James kept his eyes trained in his immediate vicinity. It was quiet, like the calm before the storm. It was as if the whole world was taking a breath, slowing for this one moment in time…

Suddenly, without warning, a light flashed in the corner of his eye. Without thinking, James flung himself to the floor. A sharp pain shot through his elbow, but James ignored it. He rolled over to see a Death Eater with his wand trained at his panting chest. Still not thinking, he rolled again, and a curse hit the pavement where he'd been lying, leaving a smoking ring behind it. James leapt to his feet, throwing out his wand arm and yelling a spell. Looking back, he wouldn't remember which one.

A jet of light exploded from the tip of his wand and soared across the space between them, but the Death Eater disappeared in a whirl of black material and was gone.

The spell was broken. The world was catapulting at a thousand miles an hour as James dodged, yelled and fought with every bit of determination he had. It may have been hours, it may have been minutes later that James slowed long enough to look around. He was standing by a window, through which several Muggles were peering through, faces white, screaming, and eyes wide with terror. A voice called out to them.

"Get away from the window!"

James knew that voice...

"_Away_!"

"Lily?" He spun around to see her standing a distance away, shouting at the now hidden Muggles. James gaped at her, before running to her side as fast as he could, forgetting for a moment the fatal lights flying past them just inches away. "What are you doing here?"

"I'm with the order! We..." She was cut off as James forced her head down to the floor. A stunner flew over their heads, causing their hair to ripple in the breeze it left behind, and they popped back up. James glanced anxiously over his shoulder at the Death Eater. "Get behind me."

Lily opened her mouth to argue. "I can take care of –"

"_Get behind me_!"

James jumped to his feet as the Death Eater advanced on them, eyes wide and mad and glinting red behind the mask. James raised his wand, one arm thrown out to hide Lily from view. But there was something different about this man – something was very wrong with him. The way he seemed to glide, uncaring, through the lurching sea of the battle, frightened James. His pounding heart sped up even more, until it seemed like a hidden, moaning whine in his ears.

"Potter!" There was a shout, and a spell hit the Death Eater on the back. He stumbled, and then James shot a jinx his direction. It hit him in the shoulder, and the man fell to the floor, dirtying the knees of his robes.

"Get away!" came the order, and James grabbed Lily's hand and dragged her away from the scene, ripping the delicate calm that had hung over them for a second and re-emerging into the panic and turmoil of battle. That was, until...

"Alright Prongs?" came a familiar voice, and he turned to see Sirius dancing behind him, duelling furiously with laughter etched across his handsome face. James almost rolled his eyes. How long had they been here? But before he could answer another spell came powering towards them, cutting the darkening air like a knife, harsh and deadly. James flung himself to one side. He felt it whistle past him and once again the sick, scared feeling bubbled inside him before he threw himself back into the fray...

* * *

Meanwhile, Peter found himself duelling a group of three death eaters. How this had happened he had no idea. He had arrived here, in the middle of a Muggle street, unsure what to expect. What he'd found had bypassed all his vague imaginings after McGonagall had appeared in the fireplace, and had entered his worst nightmares. People running in and out of each other, bleeding and dusty, while hidden voices screamed from inside buildings around him. Hexes, jinxes, curses, all flying past him, closer than they had ever been and growing nearer each time.

And now he was alone, down a dark side street with blocks of flats looming either side, hiding them from the rest of the world. And with nowhere to run.

Peter's back hit the wall at the far side, and he paused to look frantically around, his wand still vaguely pointing at his pursuers. A fire escape glinted in the last of the light and so, seeing nowhere else to go, Peter hoisted himself up onto its uneven metal surface. As he powered up the stairway, not sure where he'd end up or what he was hoping would happen, he could hear them behind him.

"Come on little boy!"

"Where you running to?"

The sound of the battle still raging somewhere below him, Peter rounded the final flight of stairs. He reached the fire escape door and scrabbled at it desperately, almost sobbing in frustration. But the handle was inside – there was no way of escape here.

They were right behind him. He could hear their breathing right on his neck, and he spun round. Three masked faces, terrifying, skull-like, looked down on him. Peter heard the noise he made inside his own head – a high pitched whimper – as he pressed himself into the barrier separating them from the cold night air.

"Peter!" Peter glanced behind him to see Sirius on the pavement, staring up at him. "Hold on!"

"Peter?" hissed one of the Death Eaters, eyes narrowing. Then realisation hit. "Little Peter Pettigrew…" they purred, moving towards him and reaching for his face, tilting it upwards. Peter felt his whole body shake as he looked up into the hidden face. He was going to die. There was no question about it.

Peter shut his eyes as he felt the sharp and deadly touch of a wand pressed into this throat. His pulse thudded madly against it, trying to push the thing away…

"Get away from him!"

The wand tip was removed and Peter's eyes snapped open. Sirius was barrelling up the fire escape. Peter watched as the the Death Eaters laughed coldly, glancing between each other.

"Oh Sirius…" said the one that had threatened him, their voice kindly but laced with malice. "Poor little Sirius…"

Peter's face distorted into confusion, and he looked across at his friend. He had reached the top, and there was something unknown written across his chiselled features. His face had lost all its colour and his eyes, normally crinkled with laughter, were wide and horrified as he recognised the voice. And the moment it took him to recover was the moment in which the Death Eaters struck.

It happened so fast. Peter gave a little squeak of horror as Sirius gave a grunt. The stunner which had hit him in the chest caused him to stumble slightly backwards, grasping for the handrail. But it wasn't there. Instead he stepped onto the empty air, gave a yell, and vanished down the metal stairs. He tumbled over and over himself with a series of cracks and clangs, though he himself was silent. Peter stared, body tingling with terror, as Sirius reached the curve in the stairs and vanished under the railing.

There was a pause. Then a crash.

Peter was frozen. He couldn't move, staring at the space from which Sirius had just disappeared. His brain refused to process what had just happened. He kept expecting Sirius to come bounding up the stairs once again, looking pissed off, but perfectly healthy.

The Death Eaters, however, seemed to have no such problem. They howled with laughter. Beyond them there was a deathly silence. The laughter was whipped away by the breeze, down into the street where Sirius lay, feet below. It was too quiet…

They knew something was wrong. And, in the second before they apparated, vanishing into the darkness and leaving nothing but the memory of the whisper behind, one masked head was bowed close to Peter's.

"We won't forget you, Peter."

* * *

James' head was spinning. He'd caught it on the floor earlier and he felt horribly sick, stumbling down the street. Death Eaters and Aurors alike lay on the floor, moaning in pain or, worse, completely still. But James wasn't looking for them. He was looking for a mane of fiery red hair, reflecting the light and glowing in the night…

Lily's whole body ached. Her wrist was swollen and tender, and all around her people were rushing to the sides of fallen comrades, whisking them away to the ministry. She was too busy fretting over the fallen that she wasn't aware at first of James shouting her name. He was yelling it so loudly it echoed off the concrete pavement and buildings surrounding them. So when he grabbed her, his rough hands seizing her upper arms, she automatically screamed and jumped away.

When she whirled around to see James standing behind her, his ruffled black hair sticking stiffly upwards and blood running from under his fringe, she felt something snap inside her.

"James…" Her arms flew round his neck and she pressed her face as hard as she could into his shoulder, trying to erase the memories of the last few hours from her head. Stars exploded behind her eyelids as she felt James bow his head so it was buried in her shoulder.

"It was horrible…" she muttered, her voice catching. "They… they were…"

"I know. I'm sorry," James soothed, and although it wasn't his fault, Lily felt slightly better.

"James!"

James broke away from Lily and spun round to see Remus standing some distance away, waving him to him. One look at his ashen face confirmed that something wasn't right.

Giving Lily's hand one final squeeze, James jogged over to Remus, concern etched onto his features. "What's going on?"

"Sirius…" Remus gestured behind them, where Peter could be seen squatting some feet away on the hard pavement down a side street. James frowned and extended his neck curiously to see what Peter was looking at. Then he saw. A still body sprawled on the floor, one arm at an awkward, impossible angle. James felt his blood run cold.

"Shit… _Sirius_!" James ran to Sirius with more agility than he'd shown all evening, legs and arms pedalling furiously. He fell on his knees next to the still form and blinked the blood from his eyes.

"Sirius? Mate? No… wait." His voice was hoarse from shouting as he put two shaking fingers to his best friend's neck and pressed down, eyes closed shut. Peter watched him as he froze for a second, a second which seemed to last a lifetime, stretching out into infinity...

Then James gave a huge, shuddering sigh of relief

"That's a pulse." He put one trembling hand up to his face, swallowing hard, before pulling it away and looking at his bloodstained palm with confusion. "I'm bleeding."

Remus was crouched next to him, examining Sirius' arm. "And that's broken… What happened?"

Peter was still standing behind them, his face grey. When he spoke it was in a low croak. "They… I was in the corner. Then Sirius tried to take them and they… I don't know what they did but…" He turned, his eyes drifting up to the metal fire escape above them. "He fell…"

James and Remus both looked up sharply at the fire escape. James' heart hit the back of his throat as he felt the strange bubble in his gut that was déjà vu.

_'Sirius' empty grey eyes looked up at him. His handsome features showed nothing but horrible, heart-wrenching accusation as he stared blankly up into James' face.'_

His Auror tests. Nothing on earth could have told him that it would have become reality so soon.

Remus' shaken voice ripped through the delicate web of James' thoughts. "He needs to get to the hospital."


	13. Extended Visiting Hours

Chapter Thirteen: Extended visiting hours

**November 1978**

St Mungo's hospital was stuffed full of witches and wizards. There were even a few Muggles, getting fixed up before having their memories wiped. James, Lily, Peter and Remus were sitting on four hard wooden chairs outside one of the wards. Around them, healers and patients alike were rushing madly around, robes whipping behind them. It seemed that as soon as the battle had ended on the street, another had started in the hospital. One which was etching its scars into the deep wrinkles around people's eyes and mouths. Lines that would be there for the rest of their lives.

Lily yawned. Her wrist was tightly wrapped up, and she was dozing off with her head on James' shoulder. James himself had one arm round her, and the other pressing a potion-soaked bandage against the cut on his head. The flower of blood which had blossomed on the red material was just beginning to slow and ever so occasionally he would peel it away and glance at it. He seemed unaware that every time he did so, the wound would open up again and a bright red bead would quiver and swell above his eyebrow.

Next to them, Remus and Peter, both pale and shaken, were sitting stiffly. Peter's foot was jiggling nervously and his face was tight and worried. Cradled in their hands were cups of potion, waves of steam wafting gently upwards, the flowery scent calming them into a state of half wakefulness.

A healer bustled out of the main ward and glanced around at the various concerned families and friends, before flipping up a page on her chart. She was young, maybe a year older than the group, and had honey coloured hair pulled tightly back, stretching the skin across her forehead and adding to her frazzled expression.

"Black?"

James jumped to his feet, allowing the bandage to fall to his side. "Here!"

"Are you family?" The woman glanced back at the group suspiciously while James nodded.

"Yeah," he lied, "I'm his brother."

"Right…" She didn't look completely convinced… but there were so many patients she didn't have time to argue. "Well, follow me then. I'll need you to sign some forms…"

"Sure." James glanced back at his friends, shrugged at their accusing faces, and followed the Healer into the main ward. It was very different from the private room his mother had stayed in. Pushed against each wall was a series of hard, starched beds. Some had the pale blue curtains pulled tightly round, hiding the occupants from view. The whole place smelt strongly of various potions and remedies, and the sharp edge on it made his nostrils twitch and James to scratch irritably at his nose. As he did so, a continuous movement out of the corner of his eye caught his attention.

In the corner a man lay on his side, his shoulders heaving madly and clutching at his chest, wrinkled face twisted in pain. James glanced anxiously at him, but the young Healer paid no attention, scurrying past with her head down towards the end of the room. James glanced across and caught the old man's accusing gaze, but looked away before the guilt could take hold.

The Healer paused at the white desk and pulled out a piece of parchment from a file latched to the wall. She indicated the dotted line at the bottom, marking it with a cross, before pushing it over to James. "Just sign there."

James took the old, slightly bedraggled quill offered to him, hesitated while he pretended to read the rows of script, and then signed 'R. Black' at the bottom. For a second he could feel a pang of guilt for possibly charging Sirius' little brother money, but it was hard to feel bad for the little slimeball. He shoved the form back at the healer. She was pretty, he noticed vaguely, despite the stressed expression, and he smiled at her as she picked up the form and filed it away out of sight.

"Good," said the Healer. "Well, he's concussed. Not too badly, we don't think – his magic cushioned the blow quite well. Erm…" She glanced back at the chart again. "Well, he's suffering the usual symptoms. We'll probably keep him in until Monday morning just to be safe. Erm... His arm's all fixed up… That's it I think. Oh, and he's a bit agitated. Watch for the mood swings."

"Okay. Thanks." James smiled at her, and she returned it shyly before, already distracted by another patient, she gestured him over to one of the curtained cubicles in the middle. As she hurried away James swallowed, crossed the large space in several determined strides, and swept aside the pale curtain with a harsh grating noise.

Sirius was laying there, his handsome face sallow and impassive. James swallowed hard and approached the bed. He leaned over Sirius, wondering if he was still unconscious or simply sleeping. Since he had arrived a delicate bruise had flowered on his friend's temple. James couldn't help but feel guilty as he looked down at Sirius. He should have been there… maybe then he wouldn't have fallen…

Sirius' eyes snapped open.

"Boo."

"_Aaaaaarrgh_!" James gave a shrill yell and stumbled backwards, throwing himself into the curtains, which fell with a clatter. James didn't even turn, standing a few feet away from the bed with one hand on his hammering chest, gaping like a fish while Sirius howled with laughter.

"Merlin Pads…" muttered James angrily, "that _wasn't_ funny."

"Oh, I beg to differ." Sirius struggled to get himself under control, though it proved difficult. He hiccupped, grinned, and then froze. "Uh oh…"

As James raised an eyebrow, Sirius leant over the side of the mattress and wretched noisily. James approached the bed nervously, lips twisted with sympathy. "Ugh. You alright?"

"Apart from my blinding headache, dizziness and the fact that I keep throwing up everywhere?" Sirius groaned, apparently over the hilarity of nearly giving James a heart attack, and slumped back into the pillows. "Apart from all that, I'm great. Bloody fantastic in fact." There was a moment's silence as Sirius closed his slightly unfocused grey eyes. "How's Wormtail?"

"He's fine. Shaken."

"Don't know how he managed to get _that lot _after him."

James shook his head, "Me neither." Then he faltered, "Which lot?"

Sirius paused, looking up at him before answering shortly."No lot."

James raised his eyebrows but didn't pursue it. He did however, hold up Sirius' bucket for him while he threw up some more. "I draw the line at holding your hair back."

"Thanks." Sirius collapsed back into the pillow, wiping his mouth with his sleeve. "So how come you're the only one here?"

"Oh, they're only letting family in. For one night only, _I _am Regulus."

Sirius opened one eye and looked up at James groggily. "You'll have to shrink," he said matter-of-factly, "and crawl up your own arse a little."

James grinned, clicked his heels together and saluted stiffly. "Consider it done!" His hand fell to his side. "You blood-traitor you."

Sirius almost laughed, but then remembered he was in a bad mood and caught himself. "Wow, I almost believed you _were_ Reg for a second."

James did laugh then, plonking himself on the end of Sirius' bed so the springs creaked. "Well, at least now if the Auror thing collapses I have my acting to fall back on."

"True…"

"Mr Black?" Both men turned to look at the young healer, who had arrived at the bed moments before. She frowned and looked down at the curtain, still lying on the floor, before pulling out her wand and waving it so that the structure flew back to its standing position. Pocketing her wand, she turned back to the pair. "Mr Black, the group outside was wondering if they could come in, and I need to get your permission beforehand. The young woman in particular was getting quite erm… impatient."

James winced and looked over at Sirius, who shrugged and nodded, his gaze on the young woman. James turned back to her, "Sure. They can come in."

The healer smiled and darted away, her big brown eyes lingering on Sirius for a moment. James rolled his eyes and settled back on the bed, crossing his legs and twisting to face the injured party. "I can't believe you're hitting on the Healer. You've been here what? An hour?"

"I wasn't hitting on her. I was _planning_ on hitting on her, but I hadn't got round to it yet."

"It's a tough life," laughed James.

"Tell me about it."

Lily, Remus and Peter all burst through the door, and James and Sirius both watched them lazily as they scanned the room. Soon they caught sight of the two and walked over to them. Remus and Peter were walking a few steps behind Lily, flanking her like two unnecessary bodyguards, and James almost laughed at their angry expressions. When they reached the bed, Lily bent down to give Sirius a tight hug, before pulling away and examining him closely.

"Why is your right pupil so big?"

Remus and Peter put their heads next to Lily's, closing James off and peering down at the casualty. "Yeah," agreed Remus, "why is that?"

"Thanks for the support guys." Sirius muttered, and they all grinned and pulled away. Lily settled herself happily next to James (but not before giving him a sharp shove for abandoning them) and Remus and Peter planted themselves either side. James was strongly reminded of the days following the full moons, when the four boys would hang out in the hospital wing, tired but laughing loudly until Madame Pomfrey kicked them out ready for first lesson. It was the same now, except that Lily had joined them, shaking her red hair back and giggling happily. Sirius occasionally would snap at them, but overall he seemed to be in a better mood by the time the others stood up to leave.

"What's the time?" James glanced around for a clock, and eventually found one hovering lightly above the desk where James had faked a signature. He peered at it, sleep making it hard for his eyes to focus. As he squinted he was aware of the others looking curiously at him.

"Careful there Prongs," piped up Sirius from the bed, "you're gonna do yourself an injury."

"I'll do you an injury in a minute."

Sirius bristled. "Charming! Threatening an invalid! Did you hear that Lils?"

"I heard. Disgusting."

"Bloody hell, it's almost one!" said James, finally managing to recognise the numbers to which the hands were pointing. "We've been here all night! That's valuable drinking time gone to waste."

"Nice to know I'm loved."

"Sirius. If you go on like this, I'll have to kill you." James held up a hand against Sirius' retort. "I won't want to, but that is the law of the land."

"What land?"

"My land."

Sirius groaned and fell back against the pillow, eyes shut against all of their faces. "My head hurts. And my arm's all tingley."

James whirled round from his positon facing the clock, peering anxiously at his friend. Sirius face was slightly sweaty and his skin had a faint green tinge to it. "You okay?" James put a hand on Sirius' shoulder, "You want me to get someone?"

"I'll be fine. Just need a nap."

"Okay…" Unconvinced and planning to tip off the next Healer he saw, James turned back to the others, who were watching concernedly. They shrugged, and he squeezed Sirius' shoulder. "We gotta go Pads. We'll be back tomorrow, okay?"

Sirius grunted, "Right. And there better be some cake in the flat when I get there."

Peter grinned, "Well, that's what roomates are for, right Prongs?"

"Definately," James chuckled, and then noticed Lily's strange expression. A heavy feeling of dread settled in his stomach. He'd told her that Sirius was fine with the whole moving out thing, and from her current expression, he wasn't convinced she was okay with being lied to…

* * *

Lily and James arrived back in James' flat a while later, throwing their coats and bags down and giving off massive yawns. James was just stretching out his arms, feeling the crunch in his shoulder as he let them fall, when Lily turned to face him. Her face was grey and tired, and her lips were pressed together in an angry gash.

"You haven't told him!"

He didn't need to ask what she was talking about. "Well… not exactly…"

"James!" Lily crossed her arms tightly over her chest, glaring at him across the living room.

"Listen," said James, putting down his mug and turning to her. "I can hardly tell him now can I? He's in hospital!"

"Oh Come on!" said Lily irritably, "You two are best friends! Sometimes I even dream about you running away together!" James looked mildly horrified, but she carried on regardless. "I mean, even at school it was always you _and_ Sirius who tormented me!"

James chuckled reminiscently, his eyes suddenly far away. "Remember that time we hung your pants from the quidditch posts?"

Lily's bright eyes narrowed dangerously and James stopped laughing immediately. He looked back at her for a moment, eyebrows raised before he reached out for her. "Lily, come on. It's late and we're all tired. We can talk tomorrow."

She yanked her hand back from James' grasp. "No… we're going to talk now. I know you, and this isn't something I'm going to let you put off!"

James felt slightly stung by that – what was she saying? His head was still pounding dully where he'd hit it, and he could feel the remnants of last night sticking to his body, crying out to be washed away in a hot shower. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Oh, I think you know." Her voice was layered with spite, which was mirrored in James' own voice as he replied tauntingly.

"I'm not sure I do. Want to fill me in there Lils?"

When James looked back on it, the memory came like a series of photographs, none really tying in. They were both yelling, their faces a foot away from each other. Lily's hair was coming down from her ponytail and James was gesturing madly. Then James was quiet while Lily shouted at him, mouth twisted grotesquely. Then they were yelling from opposite ends of the room, both of their faces flushed and angry, neither listening to the other.

"Shut up! God! I don't see why…"

"Oh, well, you wouldn't would you James? Because with you nothing is important! Why can't you just _grow up_?"

"Why do you act like having a bit of fun once in a while would kill you?"

"Just because I have some sense of responsibility and god forbid that _you_ –"

"If I'm such a _chore_ to you –"

"Well you have a way of making everything –"

"God!" roared James, grabbing his coat from the side and pulling his hand through his hair in frustration, leaving it standing on end, "I'm leaving. This is crap."

"Where are you going?"

"To the hospital."

"Oh, right. To see your _other_ girlfriend! _And don't you dare slam that door!_ "

**BANG.**

Silence echoed around the flat and Lily pressed her eyes tight shut, jaw clenched. They might as well be back at school. Fighting back tears, she grabbed her own coat and made to leave. Just as she was about to lock the door, however, she froze. Her shoulders sagged and she let herself back in, grabbing a scrap of parchment and scribbling a note on it before finally leaving the flat empty and locking it quietly behind her.

* * *

When James arrived home some time later it was to find the note flapping in the draft from the stairwell, stuck by magic to his front door. He plucked it off and held it up to the dim light filtering through the window.

_J - Key in normal place._

_Lily x_

Clenching the note in his fist, he glanced over his shoulder, reached up, and extracted Lily's key from a small hole they had found, hidden behind the broken light attached to the wall. He looked at it for a moment before pushing it roughly into the keyhole and letting himself in.


End file.
